


Second Chances

by TheHeathenSlave



Category: Hell's Kitchen (US TV) RPF
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Angst, Blackmail, Blow Jobs, Breasts, Cock Slapping, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Domestic Violence, Dominance, Drama, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Face-Sitting, Femdom, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Oral Sex, Past Sexual Assault, Restraints, Riding Crops, Sex, Spanking, Submission, Suicidal Thoughts, Therapy, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2018-11-09 07:44:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 46,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11100066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHeathenSlave/pseuds/TheHeathenSlave
Summary: After witnessing a fight with his wife in the middle of Hell's Kitchen a woman speaks up to Gordon. Initially it doesn't seem like it was the best idea in the world but a week later, things take a very surprising change.Note: Did not know what fandom to tag it to so it ended up in Hell's Kitchen. Sorry.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction in an alternate universe about a fictional wife and a fictional version of Gordon Ramsay being written because I like to write. If you take personal offense easily to fictionalized versions of real people and whatever just don't read any further. You've been warned.

“Your wife’s not into you.” She said as he passed her table. He wasn’t in a good mood and it was mainly due to the fight she’d just seen him have. She’d never eaten at this place before but it had come highly recommended. It was odd she didn’t know about it seeing as how she lived in Manhattan and this place was just around the corner. Well, metaphorically.

“Excuse me?” He asked, stopping and putting both hands on her table. His face was completely red and he was out of breath. He looked like he could use a break and a strong drink.

“Sorry thought you were aware of it.” She muttered and went back to her food. He looked familiar, she wondered why. He was British and very tall. A big man. Like her late husband. Missing husband. One in the same.

“You can’t say that.”

“No. I can say it. I just shouldn’t, to your face, or where you can generally hear it. I don’t really care. I can see what it’s doing to you.” She took another bite of her food.

“What is this? Some shitty attempt at a pickup line?” He demanded.

“No. Just the truth.” She looked at him, “Look, I don’t know you so I’m aware I’m being really rude right now but that woman, who is obviously your wife, I mean the whole restaurant heard that fight, she’s not into you. She’s into your money.” She said. He just stared at her in disbelief. His mouth opened a few times as if he was going to say anything but the amount of shock he was feeling overrode his ability to speak. She reached for her wineglass and took a sip finishing it off. “I’m a forensic psychiatrist for the FBI and I work specifically in sex crimes. Which sounds like it doesn’t have much to do with you but my expertise is in human sexual behavior and by extension, relationships. Since I’m a profiler I also study body language and things like that. I’m just calling it as I see it.”

“And you are?”

“Agent Leila Dawson.” She said, “To be honest a fight like that seemed close to an ‘ _I want a divorce_ ’ fight from you. From her end it seems like she married into money or thinks she did? You don’t even like her that much either. Do you?”

“She’s my wife I love her.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

“Get out of here.” He said, “Now.”

“Haven’t paid.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass if you’ve paid.” He snarled. She understood what she was doing was awful but she felt bad for him. From just what she saw she knew the marriage wasn’t good. It also wasn’t right to get involved and say anything. The part of her that was a counselor was winning out over the part of her that was a sensible person who knew she should just keep to herself. She got some money from her purse anyway, more than enough to cover the bill, and set it on the table with her business card.

“If you need to talk.” She said, “Call my cell, not my office number.”

“FUCK OFF!” He yelled at her. It was understandable why he was angry she would have been angry too. Hopefully this was just the first step to him realizing what a bad place he had found himself in. To be fair, maybe there were kids involved or something else going on, but there was definitely not a connection between him and that woman. She didn’t react at all to his burst of emotion just stood up and headed out of there with people looking at her. He’d been loud enough to draw attention to it. As she passed the table next to her, she heard the woman sitting there with her husband say ‘good for you’ but not exactly in a loud enough way for anyone to hear it. At least, not anyone but her. She hadn’t been wrong about everyone in the restaurant hearing the fight and even though she herself had spoken softly, it was loud enough for the woman behind her to hear.

She didn’t notice that as her back was turned and she was walking out, the irate chef was picking up the money and her business card. He hesitated for a moment as if meaning to tear it up before slipping it into his pocket and storming into the back room. She figured that he should have the option to talk to someone if he wanted. Even if it wasn’t her, she was hoping that if she put the idea into his head he’d seek help somewhere else. Anywhere else. With how red and out of breath he’d gotten she feared not only for his emotional wellbeing but his physical as well.

* * *

About a week later, Leila had an ‘unknown’ number appear on her cellphone as she was heading out of work. She rarely got those so she assumed it would be a spam call. After waffling back and fourth for a long moment she just sent it to voicemail and got in her car. If it was someone, a real person, trying to reach her they could leave a message. If it was a spam call then she’d delete it. She wasn’t sure she had time to deal with it right now. She drove back to her penthouse and headed up in the private elevator. What she needed after a day like that was a drink. She was amazed she was even getting out of there at a reasonable hour considering what she also had been dealing with as of late. The case was still very much open but, it was going cold, and it was driving her mad. The thing was, there was only so much she actually could do now, and it would be better for her to go home and get sleep.

As she set her bag down, the phone went off, alerting her that she had a voicemail. She’d almost forgotten about that call during the drive home in New York City traffic. She grabbed it and turned it on speaker so she could play it while she got herself a glass of whine. At first there was a very long pause but she could hear breathing. It was someone hesitating to speak. Not distressed, more like nerves. Then there were a few false starts and more silence. She glanced at the phone and poured her wine.

“I’m sorry to do this I don’t even know you remember me.” It was the man again, the chef, someone she had come to realize was Gordon Ramsay and had felt very stupid about later. She arched an eyebrow, surprised he was calling her. Very surprised. After what the hell she’d done, he should reasonably not want any contact with her ever again. She damn well knew she’d never show her face at his restaurant again, she’d figured she’d been banned. Even if it was the best food she’d had in a while she could always send someone to go pick it up for her. “It’s…It’s Gordon and I was thinking about what you said and you told me to call if I wanted to talk. I’m calling.” There wasn’t anything after that other than his phone number and a time frame in which to call him back then he hung up. Even though she knew the name and knew of him she knew very little about him. Some sort of celebrity chef on what she would also call trash TV. It was why he’d seemed familiar to her at the place but she hadn’t figured it out in the moment. At that point she didn’t know if she even wanted to call him back but she’d offered her help and she needed to give it to him, especially after making a scene like that.

She took a sip of her wine and looked at the time on her watch. He wanted a late call, obnoxiously late. She had a few hours before it would be okay. If she had to guess this definitely had something to do with avoiding a point where his wife could catch him on the phone with a random strange woman. That was fine. She wanted to relax a bit anyway. Carrying the wine and her phone up the stairs she went into the bathroom to take a nice hot bath.

By the time she was out and very relaxed it was within the window of time she was allowed to call him. She went back to her phone and listened to the number again as she wrote it down then dialed it back and waited. It rang a few times and just as she thought it was going to switch to voicemail someone picked up. Except they didn’t say anything. There was a long pause.

“Hello?” She asked softly.

“Sorry had to get to another room.” He said into the phone, “Who is this?”

“Leila Dawson.”

“That’s not the number that came up.” He replied.

“Well it’s me,” She said, “I use a number spoofer to dial out, for various reasons. It’s hard to explain.”

“It’s not when you tell the truth.”

“As I seem to recall you didn’t like when I told the truth.” She said, heading into her kitchen to pour herself another glass of wine.

“I wasn’t ready to face…what you said and the truth hurts.” He replied. “Look if you weren’t serious about what you said and don’t have time for—“

“It’s fine.” She said, “I’m just I guess a bit shocked that you would call me, you were so angry.”

“I was.” He said and there was a long pause she could hear him take a deep breath, “But you were the only person who had the balls to tell me what I have known for a long time. I suppose I was just shocked but I came to realize that I respect honesty and that was pretty brutal but honest. If that’s the case and you are offering help I know you won’t bullshit me. You’d be the best at it.” She smiled and shook her head before taking a sip of wine.

Leila wasn’t exactly the best at a lot of things. She wouldn’t have ever called herself the best profiler or the best FBI agent. It wasn’t that she was awful at it but she certainly wasn’t winning awards or considered a hero. She’d wrote a few helpful profiles so far in her career but nothing groundbreaking or case solving. She was just good at what she did. She had the ability to counsel someone if they wanted but she hadn’t done it before. At least not beyond consoling victims of sexual crimes. Still, it was within her area of expertise to an extent and she could help him out. She was also the type of person to keep her promises no matter what happened, even to a point where it was obviously a bad idea. She was too loyal to tell him no, in too deep.

“Okay.” She said, “I can’t do counseling over the phone though, well, not effective counseling. At least not until I know you and even then, I wouldn’t recommend it. Are you in the city?”

“I am right now.” He said.

“I can tell with how you are talking you are trying to avoid someone hearing you, can you leave safely?”

“Safely….” He laughed as if what she just said was absurd except, it was in a way where he wanted to make her think she was being absurd but actually didn’t feel that way. There was another long pause. “I can come up with an excuse.”

“Alright, I’ll text you my address. You might want to delete it after that though.” She said. Even though she didn’t expect anything along the lines of dangerous or physical abuse she didn’t know. It was best not to underestimate people in a volatile relationship. Just because he was a huge guy, didn’t mean that he didn’t get the crap beat out of him. Due to his size, even if that was happening, he seemed to be unlikely to fight back from fear of possibly hurting whoever was doing it. She’d have to see for herself.

“Sounds good.” He replied and hung up quickly. Whatever the reason was, physical abuse or otherwise, he obviously was nervous about calling her and avoiding whoever he was around currently, most likely his wife. She shook her head and texted him her address because she didn’t much feel like renting a hotel room or meeting in a crowded bar and given his celebrity status she felt she could trust him to keep her privacy because he’d want his kept. She explained the back way to get in so he wouldn’t be seen and told him she’d meet him down there to take him up to the penthouse. She didn’t know where he was coming from but given that his restaurant wasn’t too far from where she was he probably didn’t live too far from there either. Maybe he lived out on Long Island or in the Hamptons. Except, he said he was there now, which implied he didn’t always live there. Which made sense, he probably mostly lived in England. She guessed she had met him at just the right time.

* * *

It was about 45 minutes later when she got a text that he was there. She had been sitting on her terrace smoking a cigarette and nursing her glass of wine. She took one last drag and put the cigarette out before heading to the private elevator and traveling down to see him. He was wearing sunglasses. At night. Nearly midnight. She didn’t say anything. Either he was hiding a bruise or he was trying to hide his identity. Or both.

“Hi.” She said and stepped back to let him into the elevator. He didn’t say anything just kept his head down and followed after her. The doors shut and they headed up to her loft. She looked at him. “Sunglasses at night?”

“Didn’t want to be seen.”

“No offense you are over 6 feet tall, someone saw you.” She snickered trying to lighten the mood a bit. He snorted and then shook his head. A shaky hand came up and took the glasses off. She hadn’t been wrong, he was trying to hide a bruise. A pretty bad one. Not one made by a fist, he would have had to have been struck by an object. She was guessing a wooden spoon, which probably would have been accessible at his house given the fact he was a chef. He put the glasses in his pocket and looked at her. Almost as if he was afraid she’d either hit him or make fun of him. She did neither.

“I have a big dog so hope you are okay with dogs.” She said, “His name is Sawyer. Irish Wolfhound.” He looked confused, only for a moment, probably because he expected her to draw attention to his face but then it passed, he looked relieved.

“I love dogs. The bigger the better.” He smiled. She smiled back and the doors opened to the first floor of her penthouse. She stepped out and turned to look at him as she headed into the kitchen.

“Make yourself at home, if Sawyer comes out he’s kind of a spaz but he’s older. Right now he’s just sleeping on my bed. Ten years old in fact. Was a gift from…my late husband.” She said not wanting to explain that whole mess right now most people didn’t try to ask for specifics if she said he was dead instead of just missing which technically he was.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He said, “I’m also sorry I accused you of…you know the shitty pickup line thing.”

“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t really think you really thought that you were angry and that is okay.” She went and grabbed the kettle from the stove and filled it with water then put it back on the stove so she could turn it on and heat up some water for tea. She thought about offering him a drink but didn’t want him drunk if she was going to counsel him. “Have a seat I’ll make some tea.”

“Most Americans aren’t big tea fans I find.”

“I’m not like most Americans you’ll also find.” She said and got out a few mugs and tea bags and set them on the counter. He went to take a seat on her couch.

“That’s because you were raised in Japan, yeah?”

“I see someone knows how to look up things on Google.” She quipped and walked over to him sitting down on the arm of the couch. “You’ll want ice for that eye or it’s going to look a lot worse in the morning and sunglasses won’t do much to hide it.” He looked away from her quickly but nodded his head. She went to the freezer and got an ice pack for him, wrapped it in a towel, and brought it back. He held his hand out to take it but still didn’t look at her as he put it on his face.

“Not even going to ask?”

“Well, either you got in a bar fight and somehow weren’t able to stomp the guy or it’s more complicated than that.” She said, “But, I won’t make you tell me anything you don’t want.”

“Then what’s the point of this?”

“A safe place for you to go, a place you can relax, a place where you aren’t looking over your shoulder constantly or you have to hide conversations you want to have with people.” She shrugged, “That can be just as therapeutic as talking about your issues. I mean even just having a friend can—“

“You’re my therapist.”

“I am whatever you need me to be to get you through this but I also happen to have the qualifications to be a psychiatrist to you, if you’d prefer a more professional relationship.” She told him. The kettle started to whistle and she went back to the stove to turn it off and pour them both some tea. “Want anything in it?”

“No I…thanks it’s fine.” He muttered.

“You can say yes you know.”

“I know I just…unless you are going to put brandy in it I don’t care.” He said flippantly and finally relaxed back into the couch. She laughed and grabbed a bottle of brandy from one of her shelves before adding about a shots worth to it, not much. Maybe it would help him unwind more. At his size, it wouldn’t even give him a buzz but the placebo effect could do wonders. She brought the mug over to him and he took it, then she sat down across from him.

“I am whatever you need me to be right now. Whatever helps you.” She said, “No pressure and no need to worry about privacy because as you could probably tell I already know about that. Have my own privacy issues.”

“Yeah, another reason I called you. The only person who could bribe you to talk about me would have to have more money than you and that’s almost no one. DTI is worth how much right now?”

“Net worth…my net worth is about 2.5 billion and it’s only because I give so much to charity.” She said, “A lot of it is anonymous donations because I don’t do it seeking praise or press. I don’t need to.”

“Admirable.”

“Thanks, except it shouldn’t be, that’s what normal people should do. It’s charity not ‘God damn give me a trophy’ money.” She smiled and took a sip of her tea. “Any questions for me?”

“No, but I’m sure you’ve got some for me.” He said.

“Not really.” She shrugged, “I remembered who you were after I talked to you in your restaurant, felt stupid…I mean what I know of you is basically a TV persona. How you are edited. I don’t actually know you. It would be stupid for me to assume otherwise.”

“See? I knew what I was talking about, you’re exactly the right person for this job.” He grinned and took a sip of his tea.

“Why did you look me up anyway. My business card should more than prove I’m FBI. I also know in the states I’m not a big name. Not anymore.” She said.

“I was curious.” He said, “You know with who I am before I decide who I seek out it’s best if I try to figure out their motives. I could be perfectly fucked coming here to see you, I still don’t know, but odds are I’m not.”

“Trust me, your odds are in your favor on that.” She said, “The media circus when my parents died was enough for me to never want to be famous. I can’t imagine what it’s like for you.”

“I don’t think most can, not here not with that damn show.” He said and took a few more drinks of tea before putting the ice back on his eye. “They’d never understand that I’m not that guy. I…well I can be but that’s not me that’s a part of me I’m not a demon or whatever.”

“I know.”

“Yes but why do you know? How do you know? You fucking know everything with very little information!” He accused. “Are you lying to me?”

“Look, Gordon, I promise you it’s not that. I told you I’m an FBI profiler I am in sex crimes. I see everything and anything related to relationships and deviance and whatever you can think of every day. All I’m doing here is taking what I already know and applying the most likely scenario to what your situation is.” She said, “Does it mean I’m always right, no. If you are good at anticipating the human mind, it leaves nothing to chance.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Something my husband taught me…he was a lieutenant detective…it’s a long story. The point is, if you know human psychology and behavior well enough you can predict what most people will do and what’s going on with them. Mark did it well enough that he was nearly psychic. I’m not quite at that level but maybe, one day.” She sipped her tea then got up and moved to sit next to him. “I am not spying on you this is just my job, I’m sure you could go in my kitchen and make a gourmet meal out of the little bit I have and I wouldn’t accuse you of cheating.”

“Fair enough.” He put the ice down again to grab his mug and she picked it up, putting it to his face for him. “Thanks.”

“Any time you want to come here, any time you need to get away, you are welcome. I’ll give you my spare keycard okay? Just come the way I told you and you won’t be noticed.” She told him, “I only want you to be okay. I’m not after anything. Your money, your fame…I’m concerned with you as a human. That’s it.”

“She did this to me.” He said after a long moment of nothing. Leila nodded but didn’t say anything. “Over money…again I…she…she’s not good for me she never was but I didn’t…I couldn’t stop myself.” He leaned into her hand a bit more to press his face against the ice and took a slow sip of his drink a longer one since it had cooled quite a bit.

“None of this is your fault, you can’t blame yourself—“

“I damn well can. This is definitely my fault I don’t do anything to stop her and you are right. You were right. This is…I have known this for a long time but she…she’d ruin me.”

“Ruin you how?” Leila asked.

“You think for one goddamn second anyone would believe that some woman, half my size would ever be….could ever be physically abusive? To me? The guy on Hell’s Kitchen where I’m just seen as an unholy bastard?”

“Unfortunately for you it’s…harder for men. Regardless of status.” She said, “You want a divorce why hasn’t action been taken? I’m not telling you to do it I’m asking what has prevented it?”

“She uh…she’s got stuff on me.” He said.

“Stuff?”

“Stuff I’m not telling you about.” He snapped angrily and pulled away from her quickly. He downed the rest of what was in his mug and slammed it onto the table before standing up. “It’s been nice but I have to go.”

“Gordon, hey…” She stood up as well.

“No I…this was a mistake I have to go.”

“Gordon you don’t have to go you need to stay and just relax we don’t have to talk about this I told you I—“

“YOU WILL BACK THE FUCK OFF OF THIS!” He roared at her. She put her hands up in a sign of surrender and took a deep breath, preventing herself from attempting to pursue this any further. “I don’t know why I came here this…this was a mistake. Forget what you heard and I don’t need your help.”

“Alright.” She said softly, “You are always welcome here, you have my number.”

“I’m not coming back.” He insisted.

“That’s fine too.” She said.

“I’M FUCKING SERIOUS!”

“I know you are, and I am disappointed it has to be this way because I want you to be okay but….I can’t force you to take help you don’t want.” She said to him. He looked at her, it was that same look of disbelief he’d had in the restaurant when she’d first confronted him. His jaw slack and eyes wide. A hand came up to rub his face but then he was walking towards the elevator and jamming his hand down on the button.

“The fuck is wrong with this bloody thing?”

“Takes a minute.” She said, “It goes back down any time I arrive, they haven’t fixed it yet.” She grabbed the ice pack from the couch and walked it over to him, “At least take this. 20 minutes on and 20 minutes off. It’ll help.” She held it out to him and he snatched it away from her. His hand still rapidly pressing the button, shifting anxiously from foot to foot. She just backed up and leaned against the counter watching him.

“Fuck…FUCK!” He balled up his fist and angrily punched the wall in front of him hard enough that it left a dent. He didn’t even seem to notice this because he quickly turned to her and approached her, not in a menacing way. He was just desperate, she could see it in his eyes. “I need help I can’t go back to that I can’t do it for one more fucking day.” He whispered.

“I know.” She said and put a hand on his arm, “Come on, I’ll show you to the guest room we’ll…figure something out together. It’ll be okay.” He nodded and rubbed his eyes quickly letting her lead him towards the stairs. She hadn’t been prepared to deal with this and still mostly wasn’t but there was no way she was going to let him down, not when he needed someone to help him the most.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm surprised anyone is reading this which is why I was so slow to update but if you are reading it and do like it please let me know because I much enjoy writing it! Also keep in mind it's just a story and not based on anything I think is really happening in real life. For the most part. 
> 
> Warnings for Drama and Angst (and a bit of fluff) in this chapter

“Are you sure this is okay?” He asked as he laid down in the guest bed. She nodded.

“Yes, it’s okay.” She said, “No one knows you are here and I won’t tell anyone. I promise. You need your rest. Do you have to be anywhere tomorrow at any sort of specific time?”

“No. Tomorrow is a day off for me. One of the rare ones. It’s why I called you tonight.” He said, “She’ll be…looking for me you know.”

“I know but you’re a grown man, so you don’t owe her anything. You can make something up later. Don’t worry about that right now. Take it one step at a time.” He nodded and looked up at her.

“Thank you for doing this for me. I don’t know how to ever repay you.” He said then yawned.

“Don’t think about it. This is the right thing to do and that’s payment enough.” She smiled. He shook his head and closed his eyes.

“You are either a saint or a very good scam artist.” He muttered as he began to drift off. She moved to pull the blankets up over him.

“Must be a saint.” She whispered and rubbed his arm gently then headed to the door, “Make yourself at home, if you need anything I’m just down the hall. Or you could call for me, I’ll certainly hear it. Light sleeper due to my profession.” He didn’t answer, and she didn’t blame him. He had to have been exhausted for many reasons and offering him a safe place to sleep was probably the best thing anyone could offer. She turned the lights off and closed the door behind her before heading into her room.

Once she was in there she let her hair down and brushed it out. It was much longer than people thought it was, down to her waist. She had to brush it out after it had been up all day but she usually slept with it down. After that, she put on a night gown, one that could possibly be considered skimpy but really only because it was too small. It was comfortable though and offered her a bit more chest support than other ones so by default it was her favorite. She had been too lazy to go out and buy one that fit right. She crawled into her bed and watched TV until she ended up dozing off like she did most nights.

* * *

About two hours later, according to the clock, there was some loud shouting. She woke up quickly and looked around. On the TV there was some infomercial about some magical face cream so the noise couldn’t have possibly come from that. It was silent now though. It had possibly been something that came from outside, or a dream, but she wasn’t sure. She listened for a moment and the shouting happened again. It was unintelligible and brief but she determined it was coming from the guest room, where Gordon was. Nightmares. God he was very loud when he yelled.

She got out of bed and headed for his room wanting to make sure he wasn’t in too much distress. As she headed towards there, she didn’t hear any more yelling. Which was good. He needed some good sleep but if he was having nightmares it wouldn’t be very restful. Possibly it was worse than she’d considered with his wife. She didn’t know how long they’d been married or how long she’d been abusive. He’d gotten upset before, when she asked what types of things Gordon was afraid of. What his wife might have on him. She was assuming it was rather reputation damning and if she had to guess it was going to be something like nudes or a sex tape. Probably something kinky or weird that the general public would not understand was relatively normal and attack him for. That was usually the case.

She opened the door quietly and looked into the room. He was curled up in the bed with his hands over his face, like he was in a defensive position. She frowned and walked over to him, picking up the melted ice pack to move it. In the morning she was going to be exhausted but she could deal with that. Being an FBI agent had gotten her used to plenty of sleepless nights. With the icepack in one hand, she grabbed the blankets to pull up over him again. Seemingly sensing the movement he swung his arm wildly and knocked her arm out of the way. She yelped, not expecting that, and dropped the icepack. He hadn’t hurt her, at all, it was some type of reactive defense flailing, like he expected to get hit. She didn’t blame him either, not with what he had probably been living with. HIs eyes opened and he sat up quickly.

“Fuck I…fuck did I hit you?”

“It’s fine.” She said.

“I hit you didn’t I? Fuck I’m sorry I…bad dreams, just let me see you are you okay?” He moved towards her and reached for her, she let him because she wasn’t hurt or even scared of him, she actually felt bad for him. She sat down next to him and put a hand on his hand, giving it a small squeeze.

“It was a reflex, you made contact with my arm, it was no more than a bit of a shove. I am not hurt, I promise. I’m not even startled. A bit surprised but…FBI agent, remember? I’m kind of prepared for lots of random things.” She smiled, hoping to lighten the mood a bit.

“Are you sure? You’re sure, right? Do you want me to leave?”

“No…no don’t worry about it.” She said, “You were having a bad dream and it’s over. Things happen. Come on, lets get you back to sleep.” She said. He still looked worried as she convinced him to lay back down with her. Eventually they got into a position where he was wrapped around her. Nice big spoon with a little one. Something she had missed because Mark had been gone so long. She let him hold her like that. Even though they were still practically strangers, something about it felt familiar, comfortable. She liked it and she found herself drifting asleep soon after he did.

* * *

She was woken the next morning with a bit of a shake and a jerk as Gordon pulled away from her. Then there was a loud yelp, a crash, and a thud as he fell off of the bed. Obviously in surprise. She sat up with a gasp and looked at him on the floor, covering her mouth because she was very close to laughing even though she was concerned he’d had another bad dream.

“Gordon?” She asked, “Wh-What is…”

“What in the hell are you wearing? We didn’t fuck did we? Oh God how much did you let me drink last night?” He stood up quickly and put a hand to his head looking just as worried as he had when he’d thought he’d hit her the night before.

“Hey…no this…this is just what I sleep in. It’s kind of small because I’m too lazy and a bit too cheap to go buy something new.” She looked at him sheepishly. He stared at her and then looked her over. Really looked her over as if he was seeing her for the first time ever. His eyes were on her tits for longer than they should have been, which he obviously realized because he turned away quickly after that, his face bright red.

“It’s okay to look. They are practically falling out of this thing. I’ll get changed and make us some breakfast. What do you want?” She asked as she stood up, heading for the door. He turned to watch her and then scoffed loudly.

“You just offered to cook for me?”

“Yes you’re my guest…” She said and turned back around to look at him. Then she realized why that sounded absurd. “Oh right…well I’m not a bad cook. It’s a hobby of mine actually.”

“Really?” He asked sounding very interested. Suddenly feeling like she had been put on the spot she swallowed hard, feeling herself start to sweat a bit.

“Um…yeah but I mean I’m sure you…if you didn’t trust that I-“

“No, I would love for you to cook for me.” He insisted. “Really.”

“You’re sure about this? I’m not going to get yelled at right? I mean if it sucks.” She smiled.

“Well only if it’s really bad.” He said and then laughed. She laughed too and shook her head leaving the bedroom so he could get cleaned up and she could get ready for the day.

She dressed in jeans and a tank top, nice and casual. Though it was in her nature to get dressed off, even on her off days, she didn’t want him to feel too under dressed. Especially because he only had the clothes he came there in. He was about Mark’s size, Mark was a tad shorter but she still had some of his clothes which would probably fit Gordon fairly well if he requested something new to wear.

Once she had done that and pulled her hair into a braid she headed down into the kitchen and started to get out things to make a nice breakfast. Normally all she would have would be coffee and possibly a muffin or something store bought but since he was a guest there, she thought she’d cook something. She was kind of nervous, considering who he was and it was in her nature not only to be an insane people pleaser but also to be completely perfect at everything she did. Except she wasn’t perfect at everything she did, she just wanted to be perfect and that was one of the biggest frustrations of her life. She decided that something simple would be best because it was very hard to fuck up something simple and she hadn’t promised him anything fancy either just something nice.

In the end, she made scrambled eggs, bacon, and French toast. It came out as well as could be expected but that was according to her own opinion and taste pallet. It was rare for her to cook for anyone other than herself and she figured that if she liked how something tasted that was the important part. She’d taken a bunch of cooking courses over her life. Food was something that she took great pleasure in and controlling her portions and diet was important to maintain her health so she could work the job she did. They went hand in hand.

She was setting two plates on the table just as he was coming down the stairs, still wearing just the jeans and black shirt he’d arrived in. She gave him a smile and he sat down at the table which sat in the corner of the loft. It was right by the large picture windows that overlooked Manhattan.

“So how much does a place like this cost you?” He asked.

“Most people have the common decency not to ask that.” She laughed, “But I suppose you probably have the same type of money to buy a place like this. You in the market?”

“Might be in a month or two.” He said casually, like he might actually be considering that divorce he’d been putting off. She poured two mugs of coffee and walked to the table, which was already set with various condiments and things and took her seat across from him. She grabbed the syrup to use on her French toast as he looked at the food.

“So um…what do you think?”

“You did a better job on presentation than I assumed you would. I mean no offense of course.” He told her.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t even trying to make it look good so anything above telling me it looks like crap is a compliment.” She snickered and poured some syrup on her French toast, “I rarely eat like this in the morning so…I hope it’s all okay.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, smells good.” He picked up his fork and started to to poke at some of the food. Her heart was pounding in her chest. It was like he was inspecting it and she suddenly felt more self conscious than she ever had. “Bacon is a bit over cooked.”

“Yeah like I said I don’t usually eat like this.” She said, “But it’s not burnt, you have to give me that at least.”

“Fair enough.” He smiled at her and started to eat after that, reaching for the syrup a moment later. She watched him for a moment before going back to eat, not wanting to stare. Even though she was dying to hear what he thought she also kind of didn’t want to hear it. It was mixed, but he wasn’t saying anything bad so at least she could take that away from the whole experience. She was only able to eat a few more bites before stopping.

“Either it’s so bad you can’t speak for fear of puking or it’s…passable so you aren’t going to complain.” She said.

“It’s quite good.” He said, “I do have my complaints from a professional standpoint but you are not one of my chefs and I am not here to do that, unless you really wanted me to.” He said.

“Maybe one day, but not on my breakfast. Let me really cook for you, something that I believe I’m good at. Then if it sucks you can tear me apart because I would love to learn how to correct my mistakes.” She said, and it was true. She’d grown up in Japan and taken her first cooking classes there. Her first few teachers had been very strict and brutally honest. She probably wouldn’t have been as good if it hadn’t been for them getting right to the point of how she was screwing up. Though it was never nice to get yelled at, it did benefit her to learn.

“Sounds like a plan.” He said.

* * *

After breakfast she started to clear the table and wash the dishes. He, on the other hand, kind of stood around looking out of the windows over the skyline. He wasn’t talking much and she didn’t want to prod too hard. The bruise around his eye had gotten worse but she knew it would heal soon enough. Just probably not soon enough that he could avoid getting pictures taken of him while going out and the press having a field day with it.

When she was done cleaning, she headed over to him and put a hand on his arm gently. He turned to look at her. Quite the face of ‘what am I going to do now?’ To which she really didn’t have a legitimate answer. She had suggestions, the very top one being for him to leave his wife but she knew that was far easier said than done. Especially in his situation. One he’d been in so long he was basically just letting this happen and he didn’t seem to know much about a real marriage or relationship outside of it.

“I should probably get going.” He said, “They’ll be looking for me.”

“Who? Your wife?”

“Her, and well…she’s probably told everyone I’ve run off to have an affair by now.” He said. She sighed and gave his arm a tug so she could lead him back upstairs to her room. Once they were in there he kind of just stood there awkwardly and she sat him down on the bed. Grabbing some makeup from her vanity she came over and sat down by him.

“I’m going to help you cover that a bit so you can at least avoid detection until you get somewhere else.” She told him.

“Makeup? Really? Leila-“

“Like you don’t wear makeup for every damn TV show you do.” She said in a flat tone of voice.

“Fair enough but…none of it you know…smells girly right?” He asked making a face like he was kind of disgusted.

“No, it smells like chemicals and well, makeup.” She laughed and leaned in to start to cover the area as gently as possible. Her first few touches made him wince and hiss a bit in pain until he had relaxed and just let her do her thing. They sat there in silence for a while until she had the bruise expertly covered and set with powder. It would be impossible to tell anything was wrong from a distance, or up close. “There we go, now you can leave and no one will be the wiser.”

She turned to get up and he grabbed her wrist, it startled her a bit but it certainly wasn’t done in a threatening manner, it was just not something she had expected of him in the moment. She looked at him and didn’t try to move away. In fact, she just sat right down by him and offered a sympathetic smile.

“What if I don’t want to…I…leave I mean.” He asked softly.

“It’s up to you.” She said, “I told you that you are welcome here as long as you want, any time you want. I’m going to give you your own keycard and code to the building.”

“Yes but they will be looking for me.” He insisted.

“And? You’re a grown man, Gordon. You might be missing to them but you aren’t missing to me…you are a bit lost though.”

“I am very lost.” He whispered.

“That’s why I’ve made my offer.” She said and leaned in a bit more, “Because I intend to help you find your way back.” He nodded, his eyes getting wet and shimmering a bit. She pulled him into a hug and allowed him to rest his head gently on her shoulder, against her neck as she stroked his hair. She had not felt this bad for someone in a long time. As short as they had known each other she felt much more of a personal connection to him than anyone else and she didn’t know why. Maybe it was because at work she greatly tried to distance herself from what she saw day in and out because if she didn’t, she’d go insane. Those things didn’t come home with her, those people didn’t come home with her. Though she did care about the fate of every living victim she dealt with and even followed up with all of them, it wasn’t like this. This was very different. Just like he wasn’t there to be a professional chef to her cooking she felt as if this had breeched the point of psychiatrist and patient into maybe a friendship or even, something more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long I was recovering from a medical condition and emergency surgery which slowed me down.

“How about we watch a movie?” She suggested. They had been sitting in silence for a while. It hadn’t been uncomfortable either she just was kind of bored. He had found a book on one of her many shelves and was reading it. She found herself looking up at him periodically and just kind of gazing. Then she realized that was weird and rude and would go back to the book she had. She was trying to read but she couldn’t, and at the same time attempting to deny she was any sort of attracted to him. She was going to have to face the facts soon enough.

“Movie?” He asked, “Huh yeah that sounds fine.” He closed the book and looked over at her.

“Anything you had in mind?” She replied not knowing what he would possibly like to watch but assumed it probably wasn’t anywhere near what she liked to watch. When it came to her taste in movies…it was just weird. She liked bad sci-fi and horror movies for the sole purpose of watching them and making fun of them. Not that she did that alone, it was a thing her and her best friend did whenever they got together. They’d marathon them and eat junk food or take out and just talk all night. Usually, they were the same movies over and over but they never lost entertainment value. When she was on her own, she strayed away from any sort of fictional movies and usually watched documentaries. Realistic horror was too much like her daily job to even want to watch and realistic science fiction was boring, and as much as it was supposed to be based in reality and science it was usually very inaccurate and she could never pay attention without getting annoyed.

“Whatever takes my mind off this current situation.” He said, “What do you usually watch?”

“Me? I’m boring. I just watch documentaries. Nature stuff, history stuff, sometimes true crime if it’s cold cases and nothing too brutal.” She sighed.

“That’s it? That can’t be all you watch.”

“Well, bad sci-fi and horror. Me and my friend Rika like to marathon them and comment on how awful they are.” She laughed, “Seems stupid but it’s really fun. We also do that with video games.”

“You don’t seem like the type to be into video games, no offense.”

“None taken but why is that?”

“Well, you’re surrounded by books, you choose documentaries as entertainment, you didn’t even seem to know who I was, and you’re FBI. I guess I assumed you’d want to stay away from that type of graphic violence.” He shrugged.

“Makes sense, but, it’s not real. Also, there are plenty of psychological studies that show the benefits playing video games can have on stress. Besides, not all of them are violent.” She smiled smugly.

“Let's play a game then. That should help me relax. What do you have?” He asked her and stood up. She got up as well and motioned for him to follow her as she headed downstairs to where her biggest TV was. She owned a bunch of video game systems because despite trying to pretend to be casual about it she was actually very into gaming, especially virtual reality. She walked over to the PlayStation VR which was sitting on a charge stand by the shelf under the TV.

“How about this?” She smiled as she picked it up and turned to face him.

“Virtual reality? Seems like that might stress me out more.” He laughed.

“Possibly but you won’t know until you try, to be fair, the game I have in mind for you is not exactly entertaining in the traditional sense.” She said and walked over to him. He leaned down for her so she could get the contraption on his head properly then he stood up straight and kind of looked around.

“I can’t see anything.”

“It’s not on.” She laughed, “Just give it a moment I’ll set everything up for you.”

“Alright…” He said slowly. She put the headphones on for him and then started up the machine. He jerked a little bit when it started and he saw everything on the screen in front of him. Then he started to turn his head like he was amazed. She smiled and moved to the game she wanted him to try. Resident Evil: Biohazard. “Wait what…what did that game say? Resident…”

“Don’t worry about it.” She said loudly so he could hear her over the sound of the headphones. The volume on them wasn’t set too loud anyway. She grabbed the controller and walked it over to him, placing it into his hands. She got himself acquainted with it fairly quickly so at least he seemed to not be a complete virgin with video games and could handle a controller. She liked that.

“So what is it I do in this game?”

“Look around, defend yourself, that sort of thing. Don’t worry the first level isn’t too bad.” She told him and went to sit down. She stayed close just in case he had any questions about anything. She thought it would be amusing to watch him do this, however, the game could be plenty overwhelming. Even though she had played it to completion it had taken forever and it had taken her a lot of nerve to do it. Not to mention a strong stomach. She’d only done it on a dare from her friend Rika who pretty much shit talked her into it telling her she was too scared. Rika could get her to do a lot of things that way. She both loved and hated it.

“What the hell have you gotten me into?” He muttered but continued playing after the first cut scene of the game. She snickered and just watched intently. There wasn’t much that really happened in the first area. Except when he got to the house area and started to go in he stopped. “Fuck, I’m not going in there it’s dark as shit.”

“You have a flashlight.”

“Where?”

“He’ll turn it on when you go in.”

“Fuck that turn it on now.”

“There’s no way to do that.” She laughed, “What? Too scared to go into a fake virtual house?” She got up and walked over to him putting a hand on his arm gently. He turned like he was trying to look at her but of course only saw the game in front of him. He smiled anyway and then turned back to what he was looking at before.

“Why are you doing this to me? I am not a fan of these things.”

“Oh come on…I’m not really either. Honestly, I only played this game to prove to my friend that I’m not a coward.” She said, “Besides I want you to see the kitchen.”

“Well, now I don’t want to see the kitchen.”

“Just see the kitchen and then you can stop if you hate it.” She laughed. He grumbled under his breath but started to move again as she stayed close to him. The first level of the game, until a certain point, was far grosser than it was scary. There were a few jump scares here and there. He’d already hit one with the birds but he handled it fairly well. He was coming up to another one. The pot on the table. She bit her lip to keep from laughing or giving away what was about to happen. She could feel his breathing quicken as he pressed the button to get the main character, Ethan, to life the lid.

“AH FUCK!” He yelled and basically threw the controller down when the roaches crawled out. Leila laughed loudly and he pulled the visor off turning to look at her. “That wasn’t funny.” Except he was trying not to laugh but she was still laughing and that made him start to laugh.

“The hell it wasn’t funny.” She said.

“It was not!” He gave her a playful shove.

“You were totally freaked out.” She said punching his arm playfully back. He shoved her again and she shoved him. From that point, it turned into a weird sort of foreplay where she ended up shoving him back onto his couch and was in his lap moments later looking down into his eyes.

“Is this…right?” He breathed his hands moving to her waist holding her gently but not trying to move her away from him either.

“Is it?” She whispered and leaned in to kiss him. At first, he wasn’t very responsive so she figured she’d made a miscalculation on the moment but just as she was pulling back he seemed to come to life. His hands moved up her back pulling her more into him as he started to deepen the kiss. A hungry passion overtaking the both of them and they shifted so she was laying on the couch and he was on top of her. She arched her back up towards him, her hips pressing against his and she most definitely could feel how aroused he was. It wasn’t surprising, really, a rush of adrenaline after a scare like that could really fuel arousal and she wasn’t complaining. It hadn’t been her intent, she just thought it would be really funny to show him a disgusting virtual kitchen but then this had happened.

“Fuck…” He whispered, “I should not be doing this.” He moved to her neck kissing softly there and nibbling at the skin. She tilted her head to the side and let out a soft moan.

“It’s up to you…” She whispered.

“It’s been a long time.”

“How long?” She asked then winced slightly, “Sorry forget I-“

“Years.” He muttered, “I don’t think we should continue this conversation it will ruin the mood.” His hands slipped under her shirt moving towards her breasts. He caressed them firmly, working his fingers through the fabric of her bra. She groaned and moved her hands to his shoulders.

“God, you’re good at that…” It had been a long time for her as well. No one since Mark, actually. She had closed herself off to the possibility and buried herself in her work. It hadn’t been something on her mind. Not until now, at least. There was just something about him that she couldn’t deny liking. It had only been a short period of time but they had a good chemistry and she could only see it getting better.

“Are you sure you…you want this right?”

“Yes, if you do. Like I said this up to you.” She whispered. He pulled back, putting a hand on either side of her and looking down at her for a moment. If he realized it or not he was rubbing against her and clearly excited by the idea. She didn’t say anything, not wanting to influence him. Though she’d be disappointed if this stopped she didn’t want to pressure him either. After another moment he reached for the bottom of her shirt and started to pull it up to take it off of her. She allowed him to do this and helped him a bit until she was in her bra. He reached behind her and unclasped it very easily. She giggled, “You are very good with your hands.”

“You think I wouldn’t be? I’m a professional chef…”

“Oh no I was hoping you’d be.” She whispered and pulled him into another kiss, moving a bit to help him get the bra off entirely. He stared down at her chest for a moment almost as if he was in awe. She snickered softly. She wasn’t exactly full of herself but she knew she had nice breasts, mostly because it was what her partners commented on the most (male and female) and she was no stranger to that reaction either. He moved down to take one of her nipples into his mouth as he worked on getting her jeans open, his hands shaking a bit. She moaned again, putting her hands in his hair as he worked to undress her, seemingly not wanting to move his mouth away from her at all. “Good with your mouth too…” She panted.

He looked up at her and with a bit of awkward shifting and some help from her he was able to get her pants off, her panties were next. He grinned at her and started to move down, kissing over her stomach and moving to her belly button. She gasped softly realizing what he was about to do. It wasn’t that she was against it but she found something highly erotic about a man of his status and profession doing that to her.

“Uh I….are you sure you…”

“Shhh.” He said softly as he got to her cunt and wasted no time placing his mouth on her working his tongue in the exact right way that almost instantly drove her crazy. She cried out in pleasure and put her hand on his head, her nails digging into his scalp tightly as her hips arched up towards his mouth. His arms wrapped around over her thighs and moved under her to lift her a bit, which was easy for him due to his size. “Oh fuck…”

She could feel him as he moaned into her, really giving this his all. She whined and closed her eyes, her other hand gripping the cushion under her. Either he was an expert at this too or she just hadn’t had it in long enough that she thought he was. Even if he weren’t perfect at it, he definitely was damn good at it, and she supposed just like anything else, it was all about the taste for him. Except, she didn’t want to finish it like this. It was nice, and she totally could let him do this for hours if he wanted but she felt he needed to be more taken care of than her. Placing her palm to his forehead she gently urged him back and he looked up at her breathing hard, his eyes glossy with lust.

“Your turn.”

“But you haven’t—“

“Doesn’t matter.” She whispered and wiggled away from him. She was on top of him next, getting his shirt off and running her hands over his chest leaning in to kiss him then moving to his neck as she worked on his pants. He didn’t seem to know what to do with himself and she figured that it had probably been a while since sex had been about him, even if he was having it. Whatever he did get from his wife probably wasn’t as fun for him as it could be.

“L-Leila…”

“Shh just let me take care of you, it’s okay.” She smiled at him and eventually he stopped tensing up and laid back. A hand moved to the top of her head tentatively and he started to stroke her hair a bit as she opened his pants and released his cock. She sat back a bit, to get more comfortable marveling at it’s size.

“W-What? There’s not…it’s…something wrong?”

“No it’s just…perfect.” She grinned and leaned down to take him into her mouth working her tongue over him. He moaned loudly, seemingly loud enough to shake the walls as she swallowed him down. It had been quite a while for her doing this and Mark had been decently sized but slightly smaller. Not that she ever complained about his cock either. The problem was she was a bit rusty so she hoped she could do a decent job here without embarrassing herself.

So far, so good, it seemed and she started to bob her head up and down on him, getting him in and out of her throat as she gagged softly. Her hands resting on his thighs and her nails digging into his skin sharply. He was moaning very loudly, his hand tugging at her hair, short little gasps of breath escaping him here and there along with small hisses of pleasure and little sounds denoting he was possibly a little embarrassed by either watching her do this or having it done. Maybe both. Such an innocence to him that really only fueled her own arousal.

Though she could have kept going until he climaxed and would have been fine not orgasming herself, that’s not what ended up happening. Much like her, he gently pushed her back after a few minutes of this and pulled her up towards him easily. She changed her position so she could slide onto him and allowed him to penetrate her. It felt amazing, much better than one of her toys, regardless of how realistic her toys were. HIs hands came up to cup her tits and massage them firmly and she leaned down pulling him into another hungry kiss as she worked her hips against his at a feverish pace. Both of them very well worked up by that point and both of them close to orgasm.

“P-Protection…” He gasped between kisses, and she knew that he was asking about a condom or some sort of birth control.

“On the…pill…it’s fine.” She breathed. Since he was married and didn’t seem to have any history of cheating she assumed he was clean, she damn well knew that she was because she’d been near celibate for about 10 years. She highly doubted she was risking much here with him, especially with how bashful he was getting a blow job. It was obvious he wasn’t much for having a hundred sexual partners all around town even if his wife was a flaming cunt bag. He placed his hands on her hips again and started to thrust up towards her, quickly getting into her own rhythm. Working together like this it wasn’t long before both of them climaxed, he was first but his reaction to such stimulation was what pushed her over the edge and made it very enjoyable. She collapsed on top of him, pushing her face into his neck and breathing hard. He ran a hand over her back and hair trying to catch his breath.

“We shouldn’t have done that.” He muttered.

“But we did. I hope you don’t regret it too much.” She muttered back. He didn’t answer but she could feel him shaking his head gently. She agreed with him that they probably shouldn’t have done that and she knew why he was saying it but at the same time they couldn’t undo it. At least he’d done it with the best person possible because there was no way she was going to run off and tell on him about this.

* * *

After a bit of a nap and cuddle together on the couch, Leila moved away from him gently and kissed the side of his head before getting up and heading into the bathroom to take a shower. He muttered something but ended up rolling over and remaining asleep. She giggled looking at his cute pale ass as she walked past him to leave the room. It was very weird and even painful circumstances that had brought them together but maybe it was for the best. She hadn’t felt this way about anyone since Mark and though a part of her did feel like she might be betraying her late husband she also knew that all he would really want was for her to be happy too, if he couldn’t be the one making her happy.

Once she was nice and clean again she got dressed in a pretty floral sundress and did her hair in a braid to come back downstairs. In her arms she was carrying a new shirt for Gordon. Though she was sure one of Mark’s old shirts would fit him, she couldn’t bring herself to feel that his pants would because there was a height difference. Mark was six feet tall and Gordon was a few inches over that. Mark was a big guy though, very muscular so that’s why it would work. She didn’t know how long he intended to stay but she wasn’t going to make him leave if he didn’t want to.

“I got you a shirt so-“ She was cut off when she saw what Gordon was watching on TV. Something on the news about his wife being assaulted and Gordon being wanted for a domestic violence charge. She paused right where she was, staring at his head from behind as he leaned in and stared in equal horror at the TV and the news report. It took her a moment to snap into action but once she did she ran and grabbed the remote to shut the TV off. “Okay don’t panic.”

“Don’t panic? Don’t PANIC? How the fuck am I supposed to not panic?” He demanded standing up, his voice rising to a very loud and almost high pitch. He started to pace back and forth anxiously trying to figure out what to do here. Leila wasn’t exactly sure. She already knew in claims like this, the man was pretty much fucked and even if he could escape jail time, his reputation was outright ruined. This was it for him. Pretty much the end of his career which he definitely knew with how he was behaving in the moment. He was panicked.

“Gordon, there are ways to fix these things we just have to-“

“Have to what? Tell them the truth? Because they’ll believe that?” He yelled at her, “Yes lets go do that, tell them the fucking truth that in reality she’s been kicking my ass for the last decade!” He turned away from her and headed for the terrace. She watched him for a moment and followed after him quickly.

“You never know I mean, you have an FBI agent on your side, you still have the bruise from last night, I can help you, I can prove it you know. You aren’t going to go down for this.” She said as she trailed after him but he went right to the railing of the terrace and looked like he was seriously about to climb over it. “GORDON NO!” He stopped right there and turned to look at her.

“I am royally fucked, this is it for me. This is the end, of all of it, what the fuck do I do from here? Huh? Nothing! There is nothing that can save me from that evil bitch and I knew it! I shouldn’t have come here!”

“STOP SAYING THAT!” She stormed over to him and grabbed his arm yanking him towards her and away from the railing. “You came to the exact right person at the exact right time and to be honest there is no telling if she wouldn’t have done this anyway because what she likes is your name and your money, not you, this whole stunt guarantees she gets all of it and it could have happened tomorrow, next year, or yesterday! Now I know it’s bad, I’m not going to deny it but just shut up and let me help you. PLEASE!” He looked at her, completely bewildered and hyperventilating. She pulled him into a hug, which he resisted for a moment before giving up and hugging her tightly back.

“You can fix this? You promise me you can fix this.” He begged her, squeezing her almost too tight for her to actually breathe. She could feel his desperation and it honestly broke her heart. This wasn’t right, he shouldn’t ever have to be in this position but she was going to help him, come hell or high water.

“I promise you, I can fix this.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that Tera is not Gordon's wife's name, that's because this is fiction. Gordon also doesn't have any kids in this and Leila is formerly married to a canon character from an actual movie so just take everything with a grain of salt and realize I'm not working in any known reality here just an alternate version that is close to reality. Also there is mention of implied rape/coercion/sexual assault in this chapter. Be warned.

She had friends at the police department one. The local department, in the NYPD. It was mostly because they still felt sorry for her and what had happened to her husband. They didn’t feel sorry for him, however, but that was an entirely different story which she had spent ten years burying so even when people googled her name it wouldn’t come up. It was something she may tell Gordon eventually but only after she was sure he wasn’t going to freak out once he heard it.

She made a few calls to the people she still knew over there and talked to them for a bit while Gordon sat on the couch sipping some of her good brandy from a glass. She’d only agreed to give him some if he didn’t chug it and get insanely drunk. So far, so good. Once she was off the phone she walked over to him and sat down.

“Okay, what needs to happen is you need to tell me everything.” She said, “I can make this an FBI Matter while she’s still dealing with the police.”

“What did they say?” He asked.

“Well, so far, no one really believes her story.” She said, “Which is good, mostly because after closer inspection of the injuries they were not real. Just makeup. She claimed that it didn’t matter because you had done it before. The good news is she’s saying the attack happened last night.”

“Last night? Bloody hell I wasn’t even there!”

“Exactly, you were with me.” She said, “An FBI agent is the best alibi you could possibly have.” He nodded.

“I have to tell you everything though…”

“Yeah, you do.” She said, “Then we need to get documentation of your injuries and you are going to have to file charges against her.” He looked incredibly frustrated by this news and downed the rest of his brandy in one shot. Slamming the glass down he got up and started to pace before leaving the room and heading back up to the guest room where he had spent the night. She followed after him. What he had grabbed was his phone from the nightstand and he went through it for a moment before holding it out to her.

“Here, she’s threatened me, a lot.” He said. Leila took the phone and started to messages. At least this woman was stupid and Gordon was smart enough to keep it. Either that or too lazy to delete it, or didn’t know how. The messages went back pretty far. Threatening to accuse him of rape and abuse and something said about “remember I still have those pictures”.

“What pictures does she have?” Leila asked.

“Oh come on do I really-“

“Yes you do.” She said, “Especially before she goes home and leaks them, like today. I have to be able to get a warrant for her computer or phone or both, where are the pictures and what are they of. If I don’t know I can’t get anything because they can’t write a warrant without specifics.” He put two fingers to the bridge of his nose and sat down on the bed sighing loudly. His hands then moved to his face and his palms rubbed at his eyes roughly.

“Alright fine they were…you know like…kinky stuff.” He said.

“You are going to need to be way more specific.”

“Don’t I need a lawyer for this?”

“I would suggest getting a lawyer, yes, but you aren’t under arrest and I’m not here to charge you with a crime.” She told him, “But because you are wanted on assault charges I will have to bring you in.”

“WHAT?!”

“I know. I’m really sorry.” She said, “I can’t keep hiding you here the longer I do the worse it looks. I’ll take you into the FBI. This is a different situation because of all of the places you two live and it isn’t exactly a matter of New York City it’s kind of a bit of an international issue. She went to the police but I have more power where I work. I can get you in there privately, no chance of press or anything like that. No handcuffs either. You just come in there willingly and we can talk for a while. I’ll make things quick and easy for you and I’ll post your bail. Get you right back out.”

“I can’t do this.” He breathed, “I just…I should run for it.”

“No, you run you look guilty.” She insisted, “Gordon, please just listen to me I deal with things like this a lot. Albeit a lot worse disputes than this but I know what I’m talking about. Just trust me, okay?” She looked into his eyes putting a hand on his cheek gently. He looked back at her, and she was pretty sure she’d never seen a grown man look so terrified but eventually he nodded and stood up, taking her hand firmly.

“Lets get this over with then.”

* * *

Processing him was fairly quick and as she had promised she’d gotten him in there privately. It was somewhat easy considering that most of the media assumed he’d be brought into a local police station which was not what had happened. She hated to see all of this happen, including the mugshot which he was very undeserving of but once all of that was over, his injuries were documented as well. Counter charges were filed and a warrant was issued for his wife. It was after that point that she took him to an interrogation room but one of the nicer ones where victims were usually interviewed.

“Start at the beginning.” Leila said and handed him a cup of coffee she took a seat and set out an audio recorder so she wouldn’t have to interrupt him to take notes. She could transcribe all of this later.

“Beginning of what? It was nearly the beginning of our marriage that this started. Been almost a decade.” He said.

“Then start there. What was the first incident?”

“I don’t know, some fight over money she slapped me a few times. Nothing damaging.” He said, “I allowed myself to believe she was just upset and let it go. Then it kept happening. There were plans for a divorce about two years into it but then she got pregnant and I couldn’t just leave. Had a miscarriage and I also couldn’t leave. I’m not even sure if she really was pregnant you know because this has happened three times. Bitch probably used it to keep me around. Everything is so public if I had left her at any of these times my life would have turned to shit anyway.”

Though outwardly she was calm and composed, inwardly she was not only heartbroken but enraged. This woman was far worse than just physically abusive but that was some high level emotional manipulation as well. It was very clear that she had some plan in her head to be famous and to keep being famous at all costs. She had won that fame with Gordon and he was easy for her to manipulate because she was evil so why move on to anyone else? She probably was cheating on him anyway but why buy another cow when you were already getting free milk?

“What about these pictures, when did those come into play?” She asked. He took a sip of his coffee and sat back.

“That was not something I usually would have agreed to but I was not quite sober when it happened. I don’t remember actually doing it but since I’ve seen the pictures after the fact, well, that’s nothing I can change.” He sighed then started to fidget with the lid of his coffee cup. “This is shit coffee you know.”

“Yeah, well aware of that.” She laughed softly, “I need to know what is in the pictures, Gordon. I will do everything in my power to make sure they aren’t released and very few people ever see them but if you don’t tell me then I can’t help you.”

“You can’t, well, laugh or anything.”

“Gordon…” She said leaning forward to put her hand on his leg, “This is my job, I see this stuff every day and probably a lot worse than what you are about to tell me. Don’t get me wrong, I know for you personally it is very hard and seems like the end of the world but this isn’t something I would ever laugh at or judge you for. Ultimately you are a victim.”

“A victim of my own stupidity.”

“A victim of an emotionally manipulative and insanely abusive woman.” She said firmly, “Don’t ever let yourself think otherwise. Tell me what is in the pictures, please.”

He went on to describe a series of very kinky bondage pictures where he was the submissive. A lot of it wasn’t beyond the scope of things she’d heard, seen, or even done herself but she knew it made him uncomfortable to recall what it was. Most of them had to do with him being bound, gagged, and naked. It included fetish gear and clothing. The only visible faces in any of the pictures, he said, were him. He told her that he hadn’t really bothered to study them just know that they were of him and that she had them and he hadn’t a clue where she was keeping them. He’d tried checking her computer, that had ended up dangerous as she’d severely injured him at that point. Cracked one of his ribs. Always did things that stayed away from his face, until that one night when he went to see Leila. Mostly because she knew he was a public figure and visible bruising would be far too obvious. She usually hit him with objects she could find laying around that would impact him more. The most chilling in the photo set was him performing oral sex on another man, once again he claimed either the face was cropped out or he just didn’t remember seeing a face, possibly didn’t recognize the guy.

By the time this was all over he was a nervous wreck but she’d gotten everything she needed in order to execute a search warrant and collect his wife’s computer, phone, and any other objects that may or may not contain digital photo files as well as hard copies of pictures in case she’d had them printed or processed in some fashion. Gordon was fine, on his end, allowing them to search any of his house that they wanted but the problem lay in getting into his wife’s possessions. That’s why she would need a warrant. It seemed that as cooperative as Gordon was in all of this, his wife was making everything frustratingly hard on her end. This, of course, raised suspicion from all of the law enforcement involved. The problem was that the court of public opinion was already mulling over the situation and so far, in their minds, Gordon was completely guilty because his wife hadn’t failed to hit any news channel that wanted to interview her. The proof, actual proof, wasn’t getting out on the large scale it needed to. The proof that would exonerate him. The major new networks were far more interested in trashing him and taking his wife’s side. Leila wished she could be a little surprised but she wasn’t. This was how it always worked.

It was very late in the day before she could post his bail and get him out. Once again she was able to get him out of FBI headquarters with no one seeing him. The press was certainly out there but none of them knew how he’d be leaving or in what car and thankfully she was the one taking him. They didn’t at all notice her which only worked in both of their favors. She was doing her best to keep him away from any sort of news or media frenzy where he could see or read anything about this because she didn’t need him to get upset. This whole process was going to take a lot of time, but by the point they left, his wife was detained at a local police station on assault charges of her own. This prompted Gordon to want to go back to his house to pick up a few things since she wasn’t going to be there anyway.

She agreed to take him. Even though his car wasn’t parked far from her loft (he’d walked the rest of the way with a hat on and sunglasses to try to avoid detection the night before) he didn’t want anyone to risk seeing him in his car. She agreed to move it into her private garage herself once they got back. She hadn’t been wrong about him having a place in the Hamptons, which was where she ended up having to drive him to. It was a long drive but well worth it because immediately when they got inside he started to pack stuff. A lot of it.

“Careful, my car isn’t huge but I’ll take as much as we can possibly fit if you want.” She said looking around. It was a very nice home, especially the kitchen, but she didn’t expect any less on that area.

“I know, I’ll have to send for the rest of it.” He said, “You’re sure it’s okay to stay with you?”

“Yes.” She said.

“You realize when people catch onto where I am going you are going to be-“

“I know.” She said, “I told you, I’ve dealt with press before. I don’t like it but sadly I’m used to it. It’s worth it for you.” He smiled at her, half sheepishly and half thankfully before he went back to packing. She started to help him move bags and boxes back out to her car, packing in as much stuff in the back and the trunk as they could. Her penthouse was huge, it wasn’t as if she didn’t have storage space and a lot of stuff could just go in the room where he was staying if he wanted it. She really liked him and had no intention of kicking him out any time soon. As she was carrying the last box out she passed him in the kitchen and he was standing at an open laptop.

“It’s hers.” He said.

“Okay…” She paused wondering what he was getting at.

“Take it.”

“I’ll explain it this way, as an FBI agent I cannot take that item nor can I be aware of you taking it but if it some how ended up in your things without my prior knowledge that would be a dispute between you and your wife. Understand?” She asked him. He looked at her and nodded. She was glad he was as intelligent as he was and not just some handsome face to sell cookware. She’d have helped him no matter how smart he was, but she wouldn’t be practically falling in love with him if his personality was any different. She walked out of there keeping her back to him.

As she was packing up the last box she noticed headlights pulling into the long driveway. Shit. She shouldn’t have beens surprised that the wife’s bail had been posted so quickly either. Obviously it wasn’t because Gordon had given enough of a shit to help her but she was sure a woman like that had family and friends who would always take her side on anything and do whatever she needed. Leila tried to search her memory for a name of this woman. She avoided using it so much to attempt to not upset Gordon that it was now slipping her memory.

The car pulled up next to Leila’s and stopped. A woman and another man got out. According to his suit Leila would have guessed he was a lawyer but it was also possibly a father, friend, or lover. It was hard to tell and quite frankly she didn’t care. The headlights stayed on, illuminating the area, the car wasn’t completely off.

“Oi! Who the ‘ell are you?” The woman snapped. Lovely accent.

“FBI. Mr. Ramsay has requested protection.” She said, the horrible part of all of this was she was forced to identify herself with her name and her badge since she had announced herself as FBI. At least she had come right from headquaters, was still armed, and had all of her stuff. She even looked the part in her business suit with her hair done up. She reached into her blazer and pulled the badge to show it, flinching a bit in the light.

“He don’t need protection! What type of bullshit is this?” She asked then turned to look at the possible lawyer or lover behind her.

“Don’t say any more, Tera.” He advised her and took her arm.

“Where is ‘ee?”

“Mr. Ramsay is currently inside the home but it won’t be much longer.” Leila said speaking in her “official” voice. Hopefully Gordon would hear it and play along. She wasn’t ashamed to be with him or of what they had done earlier but, it would put her in a very bad position to reveal herself as anything but an Agent of the law when it came to him.

“I’m right here.” Gordon said, stepping up behind Leila, he had one last bag in his hand. Looked like a briefcase big enough to hold a laptop. “No worries, we’re leaving.”

“You have no right to-“

“Mr. Ramsay has every right to come and retrieve his property.” Leila informed her.

“Tera just…go inside.” The lawyer man said sounding exasperated by this entire conversation. Tera glared at Gordon but then especially glared at Leila and stormed passed them to go through the front door, slamming it loudly. The other man approached her.

“Can I see your badge please?” He asked. She held it out to him. He took it and studied it for an obnoxiously long time.

“She’s an FBI agent.” Gordon said, “She brought me here to get my things so I can be moved, is that a crime now?”

“No crime.” The guy said, “Just want to make sure everything is on the up and up.”

“Aren’t you on retainer for the mafia?” Gordon snapped at him then got in the car. He held the badge back to Leila and she took it, putting it back into her blazer.

“Mafia doesn’t exist, ask the FBI agent, she’ll confirm it.” He said looking her in the eye. She didn’t know why but she certainly got a chill when he did that. Maybe it was his shark like smile, maybe it was the tone of his voice. Though the FBI completely disavowed the idea of organized crime it was because they had to. That didn’t mean it didn’t exist or they thought that. She walked to the other side of the car and opened the door. “Where are you taking him.”

“The location is classified, all further communication should be done through Mr. Ramsay’s lawyer.” Leila said and got in the car, shutting the door quickly. She really didn’t like this guy. Lawyers in general annoyed the shit out of her but this guy was downright creepy. She started the car and pulled out of the driveway quickly not wanting to waste any more time with him.

“Wow…” Gordon said, “Kind of neat to listen to you be an FBI agent. I like it. Very firm. Commanding tone too.”

“Uh thanks.” She laughed softly, returning to normal, “Sorry, I didn’t think it was a good idea to say something like I was your girlfriend or-“

“No I get it. Trust me. It’ll help us buy some time.” He said, the bag that possibly could hold a laptop in his lap. She nodded and reached to turn on the radio. He put his hand over hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, so much. I owe you one. Or twelve.”

“Maybe you can start by making me dinner once we get back. I’m starving.” She said and then laughed softly. He grinned at her.

“Alright…it’s a deal.” He said. She headed back towards Manhattan where her penthouse was. They wouldn’t be back for a good hour or so and it was going to be very late (or very early depending on how you looked at it) once they arrived, but they had to make the best of a bad situation. At least his wife still had no idea where he was going and she didn’t make things seem suspicious enough for them to ever expect Gordon was shacking up with her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some fluffy angst in this chapter also I know very little about FBI anything so I try to fake all of it as well as possible but realize I'm not perfect and this is just a story so try not to be too nitpicky.

The moment they got back she pretty much shoved Gordon into the kitchen to start cooking. Well, shoved as much as she could. She wasn’t tiny but she definitely wasn’t as big as him nor was she nearly as strong. He went along with it playfully though, laughing about it as they moved.

“You’re lucky my fridge is always well stocked.” She said, “I don’t care what you make just make something good I’ll work on moving your stuff in while you do.”

“Anything?”

“Yeah, I really don’t care I’m starving I’m sure a shoe would taste good if you cooked it. Besides, if you remember you kicked me out of your restaurant like what? A week ago.”

“It’s probably a good thing I did considering how much you just saved my arse, yeah?”

“That’s one way to look at things.” She smiled and headed back for the elevator. “Don’t worry I’ll take care of everything, you just make food."

* * *

 

Over the next hour or so she brought in his stuff. It wasn’t that there was a ton of it but she had to keep going down in the elevator to get new stuff every time she wanted to bring in a few more boxes or bags. She then walked them up to the guest room and set them down, not going through any of it even though part of her was tempted to snoop. Just the curious nature of a human being combined with the instinct of a profiler to learn more about someone by looking through their things.

When she was finally finished with that she headed back down to the kitchen. He was still cooking but it looked like he was finishing up whatever he was doing. She went to get out a bottle of whine. From what she could see the main course seemed to be chicken so she chose a nice white wine and grabbed two glasses for them, pouring them out and bringing them to the table. He didn’t say anything or really even seem to notice her for the moment. He was very absorbed in his work and kind of bouncy and excited about it too. It was good to see him this happy about something considering how he had been earlier in the day.

“You realize when you bounce around like that you look like you’re trying to hump my stove right?”

“Shut it.” He snapped but she could tell it was good natured, which made her smile. The clock on the wall said it was close to three in the morning. Though she knew it wasn’t the best idea to eat a full meal so late it also wasn’t a good idea to skip dinner, which they had, and it wasn’t a good idea to go to bed hungry. It would just make things worse in the morning.

“What did you end up making.”

“Chicken.” He said, “Nothing special, not really a specific recipe either. You do have a wide selection but not really anything that makes a specific dish so I had to improvise. Rosemary and garlic chicken, some pasta, and what do you know a white wine sauce using that wine you chose.”

“Don’t be too surprised this was the only white wine I had in there.” She laughed, “But it smells wonderful, bet it tastes even better.”

“Sit, please, I’ll bring it to you. You’ve done more than enough.” He insisted. She smiled and sat down at the table and he brought both plates over. It looked almost too beautiful to eat. Almost. She picked up her fork and knife and cut off a piece looking at him. He was looking at her very expectantly almost like he’d given her a gift and he was waiting for her to open it.

“Don’t look at me like that I’ll choke or something.” She snickered and started to blush as she gave it a taste. The moment it hit her tongue it was just amazing. She let out a soft groan without meaning to. “Fuck that’s good.”

“Just the reaction I was looking for.” He said and picked up his silverware to join her.

“God you have no idea, this is…amazing.” She said and started to eat quicker, “You made this with the crap in my kitchen?” Then she realized she was talking with her mouth full of food and covered it looking away from him a bit bashfully. Probably wasn’t a good idea to do that in front of him considering who he was.

“It’s not crap…well maybe it is but it’s what you do with that crap that makes it into a meal.” He said. He was amazing, she thought about making a joke along the lines of marrying him just for the food but realized it would be in bad taste. She wouldn’t mean it, at all, but she didn’t want to poke at a nerve he was definitely going to have raw for a long time. She couldn’t imagine the insecurities he now faced with finding a new partner or trusting another person. Even if she had considered that they maybe already had a thing going themselves, it also could have just been sex. If it was just sex she would be disappointed but she would understand. She didn’t need to cling to him nor would she want to, especially if he wanted to go. He was going to have to move on with his life in some way and it could possibly be without her. She would be okay with whatever he did as long as he was finally happy.

“You are pretty much a kitchen God aren’t you?”

“God? Well, probably.” He laughed. She smiled and shook her head before going back to her food. She really didn’t have much to say to him, not because she didn’t want to talk but because she preferred to eat her food. She’d never had anything like this in her own house. Of course she’d had all the ingredients but to put them together so perfectly. She felt like she now owed him more favors than he owed her. It was as if God just sent her a meal and put it on her table. Maybe it hadn’t been hard for him but the training to get to this point had and he’d cooked it for her. Just for her. It was touching in a way.

When she was finished she got up and started to clear the table and he started to help. There was a bit of an argument when she tried to insist he not help but she was too tired to really stop him and knew she could use the help. Once everything was cleaned up and taken care of she came over to him and pulled him into a hug. He seemed kind of surprised by this but hugged her back a moment later. It was nice and firm. Not desperate as it had been before out on the terrace but, loving. She sighed softly.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

“I do believe I should be the one thanking you.” He said and kissed the top of her head, “Didn’t know one meal could make it all up to you. Wish it worked that way on everyone else.”

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right thing to cook them yet.” She giggled, “Keep trying.” Then she moved back a bit and looked up at him. He looked down at her and they stayed that way for a long moment before she raised up a bit on her toes to join him in a kiss. They parted again and he started to stroke her hair softly.

“Leila I…I couldn’t be more grateful for all of your help.” He said, “It was very hard for me to even begin I admit something was wrong but you really kicked my arse into gear on that and quite frankly, I fucking needed it.”

“That’s what I do, I help people.”

“Don’t be so damn modest about it, alright? You didn’t just help me, do you know how much balls that took? To say that to me? In that way at that time? In my own fucking restaurant? That is some high level nerve. You must have really sensed something.” He said and squeezed her softly. “I could never find a way to repay you, ever. Not in a million years.”

“Please don’t think that way.” She said, “I don’t want to get in a whole relationship of who owes the other what and when. We’re fine. This is my job, just like your job is to be the best chef in the goddamn galaxy.”

“Relationship?” He asked. She paused, realizing how she had phrased that and took a deep breath. She moved away from him gently and started to head for the stairs but he followed her which was somewhat her intention anyway. “Leila…”

“Look maybe it was the wrong phrasing I meant relationship you know like as in two people when they know each other for a while and-“

“So we aren’t dating?” He asked and to her surprise he sounded disappointed.

“No I mean…well…” She paused again, “I would absolutely love to date you but I also believe it may not be healthy for you to be making that decision right now considering what you are going through. What I want is for you to be happy and I know being with me right now makes you happy but it may not once this whole thing plays out. If it does, I’ll be very happy and I will gladly accept it but you need to examine your feelings and emotions here towards me. You know? No offense but this may just be a whole kind of reverse white knight syndrome thing.” She headed up the stairs and he was quickly behind her, didn’t take him very long to catch up either. He grabbed her arm gently and turned her.

“You know, I’m not unaware of certain commentary about me. The women and even some men what they think. I get flirted with, I’m not blind to it, may not be the best at returning the whole thing but I know. Out of all of those people, including the women who had literally thrown themselves at me, you are probably the first to be very honest about it. Thank you.” He said. There was one more hug and he headed into his room.

“Uh…Goodnight?” She said softly.

“Goodnight. Seems I have a lot of thinking to do.” He smiled at her as he turned and shut the door. She sighed and hoped he wasn’t too upset. He had always come across as a person who appreciated honesty even if it was harsh. As a psychiatrist she would be doing him a great disservice not to tell him what she just had. That this very well might be infatuation or lust. It may be getting away from his wife and she was the first woman to treat him like a decent human being. There may be a lot of factors behind what he felt, and what she did, that may also not equate to love or even compatibility. Though she did hope that they ended up working out together she didn’t want him to ever feel pressured into it. He’d finally gotten away from that demon wife and it would be best if he came to make his own decisions and realizations, even if it was nearly painful to let go of him and let him do just that.

* * *

The next morning when she got up she could smell food being cooked. Which surprised her. She wasn’t exactly going to complain that he was cooking again but it wasn’t something she expected of him or was going to ask him to do regularly. If he chose to do it she wasn’t going to stop him but still, he really should be resting and relaxing as much as possible. With what was certainly to come with a bunch of trials, lawyers, and court proceedings he’d probably feel better just taking it easy. Unless this was his version of doing that. She imagined he felt that in the kitchen he had some element of control that he didn’t have anywhere else in his life. She resigned herself to allow it to happen unless he began to show signs it was only adding more stress into his life.

She headed downstairs, still in her robe, and saw him in the kitchen plating food. She yawned and went over to get herself some coffee, still exhausted emotionally and physically from the night before. As she was reaching to get a mug he slapped her on the ass playfully and she yelped, turning to look at him.

“Good morning.”

“You really think that’s acceptable?” She asked him in a joking tone of voice.

“With anyone else, not really, you seemed like you’d enjoy it.” He said and went back to what he was doing. She was kind of pissed off at him only because he wasn’t wrong about that. She giggled and poured her coffee before adding in a bit of cream and going to sit at the table.

“Well, you’re lucky that you were right you know. Might do that to the wrong person one day.” She warned.

“Never been wrong before. To be fair, never done it to anyone before, but seems the first time I did do it I was right so I’m on a winning streak.” He grinned and brought the plate of food over to her. There was just one plate though, and she looked confused. It was the same exact breakfast she had made him a few days ago except it looked and smelled 100 times better than what she had made despite being the same exact thing.

“Nothing for you?” She asked.

“Already ate. Had some things to take care of and was up early.” He said, “I thought you’d be hungry when you did get up. Breakfast is very important you know.” She wondered if he was trying to show off with this dish because clearly he’d made it better than she ever possibly could have but she didn’t take it to heart too much as she started to eat.

“We have a lot to do today, meeting with lawyers and other sorts of law enforcement. There will probably be mediation and-“

“You know I was thinking about it and I like you. A lot.” He interrupted her and sat down at the table with his own cup of coffee. He seemed excited, genuinely happy. Not as if this were a phase or some type of manic episode. Like this was something he had thought about and was ready to accept. Even though it had been fast, it didn’t mean it wasn’t genuine. Some people were more sure of themselves and what they wanted than others. It also could depend on the topic at hand or what the issue was.

“I like you a lot too.” She replied and went back to eating.

“What I mean is, I don’t think this is some sort of minor infatuation because you saved me.” He went on, “I realize you have a lot of the qualities I look for either in a friend or a partner. You are honest, you don’t take shit, you have shown quite a bit of expertise in handling all that I’ve been through. You don’t treat me like anyone else and you aren’t interested in my celebrity status or overly interested in my cooking. The first time I was here you cooked for me for fuck’s sake. I don’t think, whether this shit with my wife happened or not, I wouldn’t like you and so I have decided that if you well…wanted to you know, become closer I would not say no.” She looked at him for a moment and went back to eating.

He definitely wasn’t wrong about what he was saying and he had obviously thought this through beyond the initial attraction they probably both felt for each other. She did like him, as a person not as an icon. She had never been big into celebrity worship anyway, except for one guy but that was a whole other story and she was very aware it would never happen with him so she wasn’t exactly obsessed with him either. Even if she did get her chance with him he’d probably never know the extent to which she liked him. Gordon was different, and since she’d had very little prior knowledge of him before these past few days it was only possible for her to see him as an equal not some asshole celebrity chef.

“Alright we can do that but we take it slow and at these meetings and everything else, I’m an FBI agent you are just there as the victim and your lawyer is your defense. There is no need to get in everyone’s faces with this just yet. Besides if people do think I’m with you, especially the FBI they will remove me from this situation and I don’t think you want that do you?”

“Absolutely not, you have offered some of the best support, I wouldn’t want them to transfer you out. Taking it slow is a great idea, I will not object to it I just would hate to pass up this chance with you and I suppose in the end if it doesn’t work then it doesn’t work. What have we go to lose?” He smiled and put a hand on her arm.

“Not much.” She said, “But whatever does happen I really just always want to be your friend, if nothing else. Okay?” She put her hand over top of his and gave it a small squeeze before going back to eating.

“Is it because I make you food?” He joked.

“Oh no, that couldn’t possibly be it.” She joked right back. He laughed and stood up taking another sip of his coffee before setting it down on the counter.

“I need to get changed, when’s the first meeting?”

“In about an hour. I’ll try to get you there as privately as possible but as you know I can’t guarantee that all the time. Especially when all of this starts to heat up.” She said. He nodded and walked towards the stairs heading up them so he could go get ready. She watched him for a moment and sighed. He wasn’t wrong, they really should take this chance, and even if it was more infatuation than genuine like, what did it matter? In the moment it made him happy and it made her happy and if that was the case they should give it a go. She imagined that there could be great things ahead for both of them, the only problem was that she was entirely discounting the psychotic bitch that his soon to be ex-wife was and the hell storm she could bring down around the two of them.


	6. Chapter 6

Leila got dressed and ready for the meeting with Gordon who actually put on a suit. Which wasn’t uncommon to do but for some reason she had not ever pictured he would wear a suit. For any reason. Not that he looked bad in one but it didn’t seem right in her mind. Maybe it was because she was having a hard time connecting a chef to wearing a suit which really was no fault of his own. She knew she could be odd in certain ways and that certainly was one of them. She didn’t intend to say anything to him about it other than that he looked good, which she did as she fixed his tie a bit. Something she hadn’t done since she had been with Mark ten years ago. 

They headed out to more neutral ground to meet in a room at the local police precinct. Though both of them had lawyers present there seemed to be an issue of where it might take place. Then Tera started to insist there be law enforcement present because she was terrified of Gordon making a huge issue out of it. Leila very casually and quietly pointed out this behavior to the others, but luck was on their side at least with law enforcement as the vast majority of people in the know believed Tera to be a liar. Which of course could get her charged with filing a false police report as well, if they could prove it. They were about to prove it. 

Leila sat at the meeting, doing her job, listening and providing the notes and evidence as well as statements when she needed to provide them. There wasn’t a lot of talking on her part that was mostly handled by the lawyers as well as Gordon and Tera. It was then the point in which Gordon had to answer to the alleged assault charges and Tera looked at him smugly almost as if she knew this plan was fool proof and there was no actual way he could get out of it and seem reliable. 

“Mr. Ramsay has a verified alibi for that night.” Leila said, “He was with an FBI agent. Me to be exact. I was his outcry witness and counselor initially and it was agreed to wait until morning to file charges, unfortunately by that time Ms. Ramsay had already filed hers. Mr. Ramsay’s injuries have been documented and unlike Ms. Ramsay, his were verified as real after examination by two medical doctors.” 

“What?” Tera asked looking shock, “Which fucking doctors?” She looked at Gordon for a moment and then glared at Leila very chillingly. In her position, Leila had come across quite a few fucked up people. She was only human so a handful of them gave her the chills or set her on edge. For some reason, Tera was one of them and she wasn’t sure why. Not yet. She did know that she should trust her instincts on this one, though, because in the pit of her stomach she felt like this was very bad. 

“Myself and-“

“You? Who the fuck are you? You’re a bloody FBI agent not some medical professional.” Tera accused. 

“I’m a forensic psychiatrist for the FBI which requires a medical degree, my opinion on his injuries are just as valid as anyone else with a medical degree but there was another doctor who checked him out. There were also evidence of fractures in several areas of his body which align with the statements he gave as to how he got them.” Leila said. Despite her unnerved sense of Tera she looked her right in the eye as she said it and slid the folder with all the statements towards the weird lawyer she had met before. 

“Lies! All of it! Ee’s sleeping with er!” Tera snapped. 

“Just because you sleep with everyone doesn’t mean I’m like that.” Gordon said sounding flippant about it. Leila didn’t react much but she was glad he was a good actor because it sounded very much like they had no relationship other than a professional one. 

“How did you even know about ‘er? Huh? When did you two even meet!” Tera demanding, “Bet she ain’t even a real agent.” Leila was only half paying attention to this because most of her was wondering how Gordon put up with such a hideous and trashy cockney accent for about a decade without stabbing himself in the ear to make everything silent. It explained why he was super busy not being at home with all his TV shows and such. She’d have avoided this woman too. 

“I don’t believe that is up for discussion.” Gordon said, “But as you must know I meet hundreds if not thousands of people in a week because they come through my various places of business, you know, where I work a job. We met through a mutual acquaintance it’s not a crime.” 

“He’s right, it’s not.” Tera’s lawyer said. 

“This is lies! ALL OF IT!” She screamed. 

“Maybe on your end.” Gordon said looking smug. She glared and Gordon then especially glared at Leila. A look that very clearly said _You better watch your back_ without actually verbalizing it. She’d gotten that look plenty of times before after someone had been arrested or even after they’d been released. The bigger problem everyone had was finding her. She was damn lucky she also happened to be an heiress and could afford to hide herself as well as she did by filing her properties under names that weren’t hers but she could legally file them under. Tera didn’t seem very smart but she did seem to have access to at least some of Gordon’s money which mean if she wanted to find Leila then she’d be found. 

“I think at this point it would be wise for Ms. Ramsay to drop her alleged assault charges against Mr. Ramsay.” Gordon’s lawyer said. 

“Ee did it!” 

“He assaulted you the same exact night that he was with me reporting you? At same exact time?” Leila asked, “Look at your police report, look at what you said happened and when. He wasn’t even in the house.” 

“Tera…” Her lawyer warned softly, “You aren’t going to get any further with this.” 

“This isn’t over. For you or your FBI whore!” Tera yelled, slamming her fist on the table angrily. “You know why!” 

“Are you threatening him in front of a federal agent? And threatening a federal agent?” Gordon’s lawyer asked sounding shocked. To be fair that was very shocking and stupid, especially since she was already wanted on assault charges and unlike the charges again Gordon it looked like it was going to stick. 

“Isn’t there anything you can do about her?” Gordon asked Leila. 

“Unfortunately no. She’s free to do as she wishes until her trial, well, within reason. She can’t leave the state.” Leila sighed. Gordon nodded and stood up. 

“Well, I believe this meeting is over and I want a divorce for obvious reasons.” Gordon said loudly. It wasn’t anything he needed to do like that but Leila took it far more as symbolism. A way of getting more of his power back from that evil witch. “I suppose you’ll be hearing from my lawyer again, won’t that just be a fucking walk in the park for you?” 

“FUCK OFF!” Tera yelled at him. He responded with merely a chuckle and turned to walk out of the room. After checking to make sure the lawyers didn’t need anything else from her in the moment, Leila got up and left as well. Gordon was in the hall waiting, looking like a nervous wreck. Actually shaking. She went over to him and put a hand on his arm gently. 

“Hey it’s okay, you did very well in there I’m proud of you.” She smiled.

“Really? She’s such an evil little twat.” 

“I know, but at least legally, you’re cleared. The court of public opinion is an entirely different matter.” Leila sighed. 

“You didn’t mention the pictures…” He said, “She might still have them.” 

“I know but it could be seen as conjecture until we have actual proof of them. I’m still attempting to obtain a warrant but it’s not as easy as you might think. Until that point it’s just best not to bring it up.” She said, “She doesn’t have power over you any more, remember that, okay? Lets just head back and relax. The bad part of the day is over. Time to move on to the good part.” He nodded and started to head out of there with her. She made a mental note to get a picture of Tera to the front desk of her building as well as security. She had a feeling that her safety could be in jeopardy sooner than she wanted it to be.

* * *

Once they were back at the penthouse he still seemed to be overly anxious and stressed out. Didn’t seem to know what to do with himself beyond taking off his tie which he also seemed to hate. The blazer was next and tossed over the back of the couch. She walked over to him to steady him a bit, putting her hand over his and giving it a small squeeze. This seemed to pause him and he looked down at her.

“I want to try something with you okay? I think it might help.” She said, “Come with me. To my room.” 

“Why?”

“Just…trust me. Have I been wrong yet?” 

“Well, you did a lot of things wrong when you cooked me breakfast that first day I was here.” He said his voice a bit shaky and nervous but at least attempting to lighten the mood a bit.

“Okay wrong about anything not food related which I fully admit I am not as good as you at anyway.” 

“I suppose not.” He said and followed after her. She led him up the stairs and into her room which he hadn’t been in yet or even seen. Not because she really cared if he did or not but because the doors were kept shut and he hadn’t had a reason to go in there. It was the master bedroom of the place and huge. It had it’s own terrace, and up on that one, outside there was a jacuzzi and full bar (mostly for the summer months). The bed was a custom king sized bed which would accommodate her dog. He was up there laying on it because closed or not, he was big enough to reach the handles to open it once he stood on his hind legs. Mark had taught him to do this long ago for some reason. He was a smart dog, and recently had even started nudging doors closed behind him as if he was trying not to get caught. 

“Sawyer, get.” She snapped at him. He looked up at her and yawned before lazily getting off of the bed. He walked over to Gordon and sniffed him but since he wasn’t ‘new’ any more he wasn’t too interested in that, and he left. Leila closed the doors so they wouldn’t be interrupted by a nosy giant Irish Wolfhound and pulled Gordon over to her bed. Leaving him standing there she went to her dresser and from the top drawer she pulled out a riding crop then came back over to him and put it in his hand. 

“Not sure what this is for…” He said looking at it. 

“You’re going to punish me with it.” She said with a smile, and as expected he looked at her like she was fucking insane. He even opened his mouth to say it but she put her finger to his lips to stop him. “Just hear me out. I’m going to get naked and bend over that bed and you are going to slap my ass with it.” 

“But what the fuck for?” He asked. 

“I guess you’ll have to see when the time comes. Just do it twice, okay? And if you don’t feel anything different or absolutely hate it then we’ll stop. Humor me on this? I’ll let you cook me a nice dinner later.” 

“I was going to do that anyway and you know it, also how is that a reward?” 

“Gordon…” She laughed, “Just relax, go with it, I think you’ll enjoy this more than you think you will right now.” He looked at the crop and slapped it against his hand a few times as if he were testing it as she got undressed for him. He’d already seen her naked once so it wasn’t nearly as novel this time as it had been before but it didn’t mean his eyes weren’t drawn to her. Once her clothes were folded and neatly placed on a chair she went to the bed, and bent over at the waist. She placed her hands on the comforter and looked over her shoulder at him. 

“Uh…now? You want this…uh now…when we could do a lot of other things with you in that position given your height.” He said.

“Yes.” She insisted, “Get over here and slap my ass tell me I’m a naughty girl and you are very disappointed with me.” He rolled his eyes, clearly thinking this was obnoxious and pointless but walking over nonetheless. Leila was only going this route because she figured it was a possible safe release for him. After dealing with Tera and learning about what he’d been through she wanted him the option of getting control back, in every sort of way he could get it back. She could only imagine that the bedroom had to be a source of a lot of problems and insecurities for him. This was obviously a shot in the dark but there was logic behind what she was asking him to do. 

It took a moment before he hit her lightly. Except he didn’t say anything. She turned back to look at him. She was about to remind him to tell her she was naughty girl when he hit her again, much harder that time. Nothing violent but it had considerably more force behind it. This caused her to yelp and jump a bit. 

“You are naughty bitch aren’t you?” He asked, “This is what you are asking me to do is it? This is what gets you off, yeah?” He hit her again, this his the same level as the second one. She jumped and let out a bit of a cry again. She wasn’t a stranger to this, but it had been an extremely long time and she’d forgotten how it had felt. 

“Yes sir.” She said, “I’m quite awful aren’t I?” 

“Damn right you are.” He breathed and hit her again. “Fucking whore.” There was another strike and she took in a sharp breath. He wasn’t getting any harder nor more violent but he certainly was damn good at hitting almost the same exact spot each time which only made the skin more sensitive. There were a few more slaps then silence and nothing. She caught her breath and lifted her head to turn to look at him. He was just standing there like he was contemplating all of this, possibly more than even what they had just did. She started to stand up and he grabbed her by her hair and turned her, pulling her into a kiss before shoving her back onto the bed. 

“Woah…” She muttered, and not out of fear, more surprise. He was showing a dominant side that she really hadn’t believed he had. It was obvious to her that the public portrayal of him was very inaccurate and he’d been very different so far. She didn’t mind this behavior, not even slightly, but if anything she knew it would be short lived. He was on the bed next, hand on her throat glaring down at her intently. 

“Why would you do that to me?” He snarled. 

“Hey just…take a deep breath.” She whispered, “It’s me I just…I thought you’d enjoy it. You know, having control in an intimate setting. That’s it. It was kind of the best way I could show it to you.” As predicted, it was short lived because he pulled back from her and sat on the bed, breathing hard and his hands moved to his face. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry I asked you to do it.” She said, “I also really enjoyed it.” 

“It’s not me I can’t do that for you, you’re just another woman who wants me to be something I’m completely not in-“

“Gordon hey, no…that’s not it at all.” She interrupted him, “What I wanted was to show you that you have control back, you have your power back. You aren’t restricted any longer. I don’t want you to be dominant if you don’t want I really don’t want you to do anything you don’t want, I just want you to be you and understand that you are strong and she didn’t take that away from you here or out there.” He finally moved his hands and looked in her direction. She offered him a smile and he pulled her into a nice hug. 

“Thank you.” He muttered and took in a deep breath. She smiled and snuggled more into him. At the angle she was at she could definitely tell he was aroused, but there could be any number of reasons for that. “So you’re into all this stuff, the kink and bondage…whatever?” 

“Yeah. I don’t need to have it though.” She said, looking up at him, “I mean we didn’t do anything like that on the couch yesterday.” 

“True.” He said, “But say I wanted to try it, maybe, with you. What would you do to me?” The way he had phrased that was very key, because it denoted that he didn’t intend to be the dominant which was fine with her because she was a switch but she wasn’t sure if he was actually ready to do anything submissive yet. She was afraid of the emotional repercussions. However, there was already a strong bond and trust between them with what he’d had to talk to her about and they’d gone through already. She could believe that he trusted her and she’d trusted him enough to let him take a crop to her ass with no real safe word or instructions on how to handle it. 

“Anything you were okay with and we agreed upon before it started as well as selecting a safe word so I know when to stop if you get uncomfortable.” She said, “Why? If it’s something you want to try I could certainly help with it.” 

“Maybe it…if I do it with someone who isn’t out to completely fuck me in the ass, at least not metaphorically, I’ll have a better association with it than well…with her.” He pointed out. “A better understanding beyond fear and abuse, hell most of what you just fucking said never entered into any conversation with Tera.” 

“Yeah, that’s because whatever she was calling BDSM was just an excuse to hurt you. Which isn’t even close to what it’s all about. It’s about trust, understanding, and taking care of your partner.” She said, “A definite bonding experience as well. I’m just unsure of how ready you might be.” 

“You said the same thing about dating you.” He replied in a very sing-song type of voice as if to also say ‘I told you so’ in the same sentence. She smiled and pressed her face against his chest. 

“Okay okay fine, but if we do this we are going to do it right and I don’t mean right now. I want a long discussion about it first and then we will decide how to go from there. Agreed?” 

“Agreed.”

* * *

They found themselves in the kitchen not too much later. Gordon insisted on making her tea and it was somehow better tea than she usually had but she wasn’t sure why. For a long time she was more interested in the tea than the conversation. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to discuss this stuff with him but it was like every damn thing he touched in the kitchen he made into magic. 

“Okay.” She said, “So we will start with what you are comfortable with. You can tell me where you want to start.” 

“I suppose it would be best to start with things she did to me but maybe we do it the right way?” 

“No offense but I’m not sure she did anything that was technically BDSM.” Leila said, “Anyway, that was rude. What exactly do you think? No idea is a bad idea, I can work with anything.” He nodded and took a deep breath. 

“She did tie me up a lot.” He said, “For long periods of time. Would leave me…”

“Okay that’s not appropriate, leaving you I mean, but restraints can be done. Not too hard.” She said, “We’ll start soft, and I’ll make sure you can easily release them yourself if you get panicked.” 

“That sounds fair enough. What else would you do?” 

“What else would you want?” She asked. He looked at her, his mouth moving a bit like he was going to say something but then didn’t say anything and kind of looked away from her his hand going to his mouth like he was nervous. She gave him a bit of time to compose himself and sipped more of her tea. Still, he didn’t say anything. “What if we start with restraints and I try a few mild things and you can decide from there?” 

“Yeah, that sounds fine.” He nodded. “When do you want to do this?”

“Whenever you are ready.” She said, “Don’t force it, okay? I want this to be enjoyable for you not add additional trauma you know.” 

“I’m going to a least get changed, maybe shower, yeah?” He said and stood up. He was still mostly in his suit. She smiled and watched him leave heading up to his room to get cleaned up. She was sure she could make this work as long as she took it slow. It seemed like he may handle things better if he had someone else take over for a while. He might even love it. That would remain to be seen though, the last thing she wanted to do was make him worse. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some kink and bondage and light CBT in this chapter, also a bit of fluff, so be warned but also enjoy!

“You’re sure you want to do this?” She asked him as she carefully restrained his wrists above his head. He gave her a look, almost as if he were annoyed but not quite. He was on the verge of being annoyed. She could tell. 

“If you keep asking that I’m going to tie you to the bed.” He tried to warn her. This only caused her to snort back a bit of laughter.

“That wouldn’t be any sort of punishment for me as you saw earlier.” She told him but finished restraining one wrist, then the other. The specific type of restraints she was using was more for beginners. They held pretty well but a sharp and quick tug would release him if he panicked or felt he needed to get up quickly and without her permission. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His shirt was already off so what would come next would be his pants but it didn’t matter if his wrists were restrained for that or not. “You did choose a safe word, right?” 

“Yeah,” He said and opened one eye, “I like the one you suggested, cardiac.” 

“That’s fine,” She smiled, “But it’s mine as well.” 

“I like your reasoning behind it.” He muttered and closed his eyes again, taking in another deep breath. Her reasoning behind the safe word was that, as a medical doctor, hearing the word instantly triggered thoughts of the heart. Especially the phrase cardiac arrest. It was definitely a word sure to make her pause but also one she had routinely used as a safe word with previous partners for the same reason. It was also very jarring to yell out during a scene that was supposed to be erotic. She intended to go slow with him so she hoped that it wouldn’t need to be used but if it was, it would be completely understandable. 

“Good, can you call me Mistress? Are you okay with that?” 

“Yes…”

“Yes what?” 

“Yes…Mistress.” He whispered. There was a bit of hesitation and his voice wasn’t too loud but she’d work on that later. She wanted him to get used to this idea not force him into it and be completely overbearing like his wife probably had been. She rolled her eyes at the thought which he luckily didn’t see because his eyes were still closed. 

“Good boy.” She purred and got on the bed, straddling him so she could work on getting his pants off. She couldn’t tell if he was enjoying himself just yet or just trying to stay calm. She’d have to keep an eye on that and make sure he wasn’t attempting to push himself more than he needed to in order to get through all of this. Slowly, she worked his pants down along with his boxers and pulled them off. Then she got up and tossed them aside. From her dresser, she grabbed the riding crop he had used on her before and sat down next to him. He was semi-erect so he wasn’t hating this but then again it could just be a physical response. “I really like your cock, it’s very nice.” 

“Th-Thank you…Mistress.” He breathed. That voice was far more breathy because it was aroused not due to panic. It was still shy but it wasn’t shaking. His face was flushed as well. She smiled and placed the crop on his chest and drew it down towards his stomach. 

“Who do you think should own this cock?” She asked him, her other hand moving to travel the length of it softly. He let out a loud pleasured groan and arched his back a bit. His tongue darted out to lick his lips and he shifted. 

“You should, Mistress.” 

“I should? Really?” She asked and wrapped her hand around him starting to stroke him gently. “Why is that.” 

“I should belong…to you.” He said. There were no set answers for this. Or rather, no answers that she was was specifically looking for. She had already told him that during this, there would be no wrong answers, all she wanted was honesty. It was hard to tell if he was being completely honest though. 

“Gordon…” She warned in a stern voice, “Remember what I asked of you for this session, I told you there were no wrong answers unless they were dishonest.” 

“I…I’m not being…dishonest.” He said and then let out a low whine as her hand had slowed down a bit. “Honest I’m not…please!” 

“Okay then, just making sure.” She moved in a bit more and started to move her hand again, leaning in to stop just for a moment and lick the entire length of his cock before continuing to stroke him. He was fully erect now, had been for the past few moments. He wiggled a bit under her and let out another whine. “Then you trust me with your cock?” 

“Yes Mistress.” He said, his eyes still closed but his head nodding slightly. If she had to guess it was almost unconscious as he did. It was what spoke miles to her in how honest he was being right now. Other than the fact she was teasing him pretty cruelly with her hand he seemed relaxed. She pulled her hand back and moved the crop to the base of his cock. His eyes opened. 

“What if I wanted to punish you?” She asked, “Would you trust that I would not harm you?” He nodded eagerly looking down at the crop for a moment then up at her, his eyes shining with lust and anticipation. 

“Yes…yes I would trust you, Mistress.” He said. She pulled the crop back and gave him a light slap. Enough to cause a bit of a sting but nothing too powerful. He moaned again, arching up as his eyes closed and he laid back again. 

“You liked that?” 

“V-Very much, Mistress.” 

“I liked it as well.” She said running her fingers softly over his full length before slapping his cock again, this time it was a bit higher up. He let out a yelp followed by a bit of a moan. At that point, his cock had started to leak a bit of precum. She smiled, moving her fingers to his foreskin to push it back starting to manipulate it a bit getting him to shudder and moan in pleasure far more, but only until she could sense he was about to climax. That’s when she stopped and struck him a third time, back at the base. He let out a howl but it sounded more out of annoyance than pain. 

“Please…Mistress!” He begged. 

“Orgasms aren’t a right, they are a privilege. Who did you just say owns your cock?” 

“You…Mistress but-“

“But what?” 

“Mistress—“

“NO!” She said firmly and struck him again. He whined and kicked his feet at the bed a bit before managing to settle down and take in some deep breaths. “You are being a very bad boy, maybe I shouldn’t let you cum at all.” 

“No…Mistress please. I…I’m sorry. I’ll be good I promise.” He pleaded with her. None of this seemed to be deterring him, if anything, what she was doing was riling him up even more. Though she had been worried when they first started if he was even ready for this it was clear he had been. As she had expected, he wasn’t nearly the dominant that he had the reputation for being. As far as what she was doing to him right now, this was nothing. At least not in the way of torture she could be giving him. Light slaps and gentle teasing. She couldn’t imagine this was anything like what his wife did which sounded like straight up beating and torturing. Some people were far more prone to submission than others and she was starting to see that he really was one of them. 

“Alright. But you’ll have to do something for me as well. It’s only fair.” She told him. He nodded his head quickly opening his eyes and looking up at her. 

“Yes, anything you want Mistress.” He promised her. She smiled at him and started to strip down. He watched her, his fists clenching and his breathing increasing. Once she was naked, she climbed on the bed and moved over his face, straddling it but facing downwards. She started to lower herself and as soon as it was possible she felt the tip of his tongue on her. She gasped softly then let out a slight moan. 

“Eager little thing huh?” She whispered and took in a deep breath to calm herself. Except he lifted his head and pressed more into her. She fell forward a bit, not expecting that, and grabbed onto the bedding under her tightly as she tried not to lose balance. Slowly, he laid back, keeping his mouth on her and working his tongue just as well as he had done not too long before. It took her a moment to remember what she was doing. A hand came up (the other one staying down for a bit of balance) and grabbed his cock. She stroked it a few times before taking him into her mouth. He moaned into her, the vibrations feeling amazing against her cunt as she started to work him in and out of her mouth. Up and down her throat. Her hand going back down to the bed for balance. 

He was very good with his mouth, far better in this position than the one they had been in on the couch. Every so often she’d go into a pleasured daze, forgetting she even had his cock in her mouth. It wasn’t something she meant to do and usually, she was far better at a 69 position but he was far better at oral sex on her than anyone else, well, usually. She found when she did this, even to submissive they weren’t as into pleasuring her as she wanted him to be, but him? He was a master at this. Something that shouldn’t have even been surprising but it was. She moaned around him as well, gagging and choking on his cock until she lost control, climaxing and thrusting back and down towards his face. She clawed at the bedding, whining around him, and as she started to calm she couldn’t help but rest her full weight on him. This seemed to trigger his own climax. It caught her off guard. She was only able to swallow some of the cum but had no choice but to move back or she’d end up choking. Some of it spilled down her chin and the last few spurts got on her chest. She didn’t really care either. That had been amazing. 

When she realized she was resting fully on him, and he wasn’t really moving or trying to complain, she got a bit startled and quickly scrambled away to make sure he could get air and hadn’t passed out. Though it was unlikely that had happened, it certainly wasn’t impossible. She shifted so she was kneeling next to him, reaching up to put her hand on his cheek. 

“Gordon?” She whispered. He had a very satisfied smile on his face as his eyes opened slowly to look up at her. Completely sated. She laughed softly and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before leaning in to kiss him. 

“That went better than I even hoped for.” He whispered, after the kiss had broken. She chuckled and then laid down next to him lazily reaching up to unclasp the clips to the restraints that attached to the cuffs around his wrists. He brought his arms down and wrapped one of them around her. She laid her head on his chest and took in a deep breath. 

“I’m a bit messy, you know.” 

“That’s why God invented showers. Or man. Whatever you choose to believe.” 

“Hmmm, so it’s not possible a woman invented the shower?” She asked him teasingly. 

“Possible? Yes…but I think women were already pretty mindful of how they smelled long before men realized they probably had to find a better way to get clean if they wanted to get women.” He said and grinned. She laughed and closed her eyes, her hand coming up to stroke his chest softly. That had really been amazing and she couldn’t wait to take the next step with him in the relationship.

* * *

It was quite a bit later, and he was in the kitchen making both of them dinner as he’d promised while she caught up on her email. Even though she was an FBI agent and didn’t run the company left to her in her parents’ will, there were sometimes things she had to do final approvals on per the contract of the company. The inheritance stated that she had to run the business in some way or she’d be very limited on how much money she’d get out of the death.

She wasn’t greedy, or spoiled, but she also didn’t want to lose the business or sell it. DTI was not something she had really cared about but her parents had put their blood, sweat, and tears into it. They had built an empire. It felt wrong to go against their wishes and sell it out of the family. It had obviously been left to her with the hopes that she’d eventually have a child who could carry on the company. Leila had yet to make that step and at that moment in her life she didn’t know if she ever would but in the event that she did, she wanted to make sure she still had it within her control. 

It was when she was checking her email that she got a text from her friend Rika. She was the current standing CEO of the company. Rika was like a sister to her. She’d known the woman ever since they were both six and she had first moved to Japan with her family. Very close, and never stopped being close, even though Rika was now bound to live in Japan most of the year to run the company. Leila hadn’t chosen her based on friendship, as some had claimed, she’d chosen her as CEO because she was fucking good at it. Profits had only increased since Rika had been appointed and that spoke for itself. 

> _ What is this shit about you and Gordon Ramsay? _
> 
> _ What?  _
> 
> _ You’re working on his case, the domestic dispute thing. _
> 
> _ How did you know? _
> 
> _ Leila, I’m fairly sure there is only one female Agent Dawson in that area. It’s in the news.  _
> 
> _ Shit.  _
> 
> _ Calm down, how did you even get involved in this?  _
> 
> _ Long story.  _
> 
> _ Does it have to do when you yelled at him in his restaurant before you found out who he was? _
> 
> _ Maybe.  _
> 
> _ And you weren’t going to tell me? _
> 
> _ Shut up.  _
> 
> _ Are you two fucking now?  _
> 
> _ RIKA! _
> 
> _ Well you need to look at the internet.  _
> 
> _ People know?! _
> 
> _ No, stupid, but they are rallying behind Gordon. It’s all over the place. There’s memes about his bitch wife and shit. If he’s worried about his career or business, I don’t think he has to be.  _
> 
> _ Why are you telling me? _
> 
> _ Because you are the exact type of person not to go on the internet to look at this stuff. Do you even know what a meme is?  _
> 
> _ Shouldn’t you be asleep?  _
> 
> _ A good CEO never sleeps. Call me! _
> 
> _ Bye Rika.  _

She set the phone down and glanced at Gordon from the couch where she had been working on her laptop. From there, she got curious enough to google his name and check the news in relation to it. Rika’s statement had been somewhat true. Leila didn’t get on the internet much to browse social media or gossip. She kept it to emails or research or actual news that didn’t have to do with celebrities. She supposed it didn’t hurt to check now, though. Especially since he had been worried about his reputation. 

She was finding a lot of support. Far more support than she was finding any sort of hate. The major news outlets weren’t really doing him justice but his fans were. They were standing up for him. There were blog posts, youtube videos, tweets, Facebook pages. Justice for Gordon. As much as she was shocked, she kind of wasn’t. 

This had been a tricky situation, it could have gone either way. Especially for a man. The fact that the public, or at least his public, seemed to overwhelmingly believe he never touched Tera and he was the real victim in this, was nothing short of a miracle. It took them not only accepting that women could lie about being abused but they could also abuse men. Men twice their size. She smiled and stood up, walking over to him with the laptop. Of course, he was not interested in the moment because he was cooking so it took a moment to get his attention. 

“Look.” 

“At what? Don’t set that down there…” He said, gently shoving her back so she wouldn’t put the laptop on the counter. She wanted to be annoyed but found it cute so she let it slide. 

“Your fans, I mean everyone is standing behind you.” She said, “I just…well I wanted to show you that I don’t think you need to worry much about your career through all of this.” He paused then, just for a moment to skim one of the pages she had brought up and he smiled brightly, leaning in to give her a kiss. She kissed him back but then he pulled away to move to the stove. 

“That’s great news but I’d prefer to discuss it over dinner, yeah? Better time and nothing will be ruined by getting burned.” 

“Fine fine.” She said and went back to to the couch where she had been sitting before. The guy really seemed to get into a zone when he was cooking and she didn’t want to fuck it up too much. She loved knowing that he was happy and she had kept her promise, that she would fix all of this. Even if she couldn’t control people’s opinions and that was entirely separate from her, it all seemed to be working out. At least for now. Tera wasn’t taking the news quite as happily as they were. Not by a long shot. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay let me explain. Mark Hoffman is a fictional character from the Saw Movies. Leila is also a fictional character of my own creation and as such she's always been married to Mark from the Saw movies so this is the point where the story gets a bit weird because Gordon is a real person but in this fan fic he's a fictionalized version of Gordon. My point in all of this is that you don't need to be a fan of the Saw movies to understand this because Mark's not some huge character he's just part of Leila's background story and he really won't be in this much. This does all tie into the plot with the fictional wife, Gordon, and Leila so there is a point to introducing this. As always if you completely hate this idea you can just stop reading. I hope you do enjoy it but I can't make you enjoy it. Thanks.

The next morning when Leila came downstairs she put some coffee on and the strangest thing happened. The elevator dinged like someone was arriving. Instinctively her hand went to her hip trying to draw her gun, which of course she didn’t have because she was just in her robe. She rolled her eyes and moved to the sink and opened the cabinet. She kept a small gun under there just in case. She pulled it and moved to the elevator just as the doors opened. Her gun trained on the doors. Except, no one was in there. On the ground, however, was a box. Nothing too big, just a small wooden box. Curious, she stepped inside and picked it up. There was a note on top addressed to her. She walked it over to the counter and set it down, the gun next to it. That wasn’t her FBI issued gun it was a smaller Ruger, good for concealed carry and personal defense.

She opened the envelope on top first and pulled out what was inside. It was just a card. One sided. The words, “I know who you are” on it. She bit her lip and took in a deep breath trying not to freak out. It had to just be nothing, not…the same as Mark. When he vanished. It was a random phrase and vaguely threatening but there’s no way they knew. Very few people knew about that card. She set it down carefully her hands shaking. It was at that point she went and grabbed some gloves from under the sink and put them on. She should have done that first but what was done was done. There was still a chance of recovering fingerprints she hadn’t handled the box too much or the contents inside.

Slowly, she swung it open on it’s hinge. It seemed like an old cigar box painted black and sanded so the labels weren’t there anymore. It certainly smelled like a cigar box. She got the scent as it opened. Inside, there was a small stack of papers, turned upside down. The very top one said. “I know where he is”. Clenching her jaw she reached a shaking hand inside the box to pick up the top paper, as it turned out, it was a photograph. She could tell by the stock on which it was printed. On the other side was a photograph of Mark. She picked it up and stared at it. This wasn’t impossible to get, someone could have easily pulled it off of the internet. It was the words on the back that concerned her.

“Leila?” It was Gordon’s voice but that didn’t stop her from screaming and quickly jamming the picture back into the box and shutting it. She turned to look at him, unaware of how pale she looked in the moment.

“Uh…good…g-good morning.” She stammered, moving her body in front of the box trying to block it. Obviously this didn’t do any sort of good considering that he was taller and had already seen the box. He looked at her oddly and headed towards her, but he was cautious.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He said.

“It’s nothing, really…just a prank.” She told him and forced a laugh, gathering up all of that stuff in her hands carefully wanting to make sure to go through it and then get it processed for any sort of evidence it might hold. The problem was, she had a sinking feeling whatever was in the box would not be able to be processed because it was going to be incriminating to her.

“You’re lying.”

“This is something you want to stay out of.” She said softly as she passed him.

“Something you thought you needed a gun for?” He asked sounding shocked as he motioned to the counter.

“Just leave it there for a moment I need to…move this.”

“And then explain yourself.”

“Gordon…”

“Fucking hell, Leila I am here because I trust you and I’m not a fucking idiot, do you really think you can talk that way to me and think I’ll let it go?” He yelled at her. She had to admit he had a point but the less people involved in this, the less people that knew about Mark, the better. She had to go look at what was in the box first. See what this person knew and try to figure out who it was. It was very possible that all she had found was that Mark was a serial killer and they had been married. However, there was a slight chance, a very slight chance this person had found something worse and this was the day she always feared. Being discovered.

“Listen to me, you don’t want to get involved with this and I’m not saying that because I don’t trust you I’m saying that because it’s dangerous.” She spoke firmly, “Now, please…let me take care of this and when I come back I will explain to you in the best way I know how, what this is about. Okay? Can you trust that?” He took in a deep breath and nodded slowly. She nodded back at him and took the box into her office and shut the door, locking it behind her.

Once the box was on her desk she opened it again and took out the picture of Mark and set it aside carefully. Next, what she took out was a stack of papers, stapled together.

There was an address written on top. No name or anything just a random address. Under that was a copy of her marriage certificate to Mark, which at that point was void because he’d been declared legally dead long enough ago that it didn’t matter. Under that were copies of news articles explaining who Mark was and a few articles announcing their marriage and engagement as well as a wedding picture of the two of them. Nothing in there about anything else. She breathed a large sigh of relief. This was mostly good. The FBI already knew all of this, obviously. She’d spent a lot of money on lawyers to get it all buried but it wasn’t impossible to find if someone had a grudge. If they thought they could blackmail her with this they were wrong because she’d been exonerated already. No one could prove her as an accomplice or criminal herself. Thank God. Her only obstacle now was explaining this to Gordon and not having him run off screaming. Whoever knew this intended to try to use it against her someway so if she came clean first maybe it would soften the blow a bit.

She packaged everything up to be sent to the lab when she got a chance so she could get it processed. Maybe the person who left it was careless and left prints. Maybe they’d get even more lucky and the prints would be in the system. She’d take it in after breakfast as part of the ongoing investigation with Gordon. Mostly because she was very sure no one would be trying to threaten her in this way if she was not the investigating agent on his case. She walked out of there and into the kitchen where Gordon was sipping coffee and just staring at the gun.

“It’s just a gun.” She sighed walking over to it and putting it back where it usually was. “It’s there, if you ever need it.”

“I don’t know how to use a gun.”

“Well, point it at whatever you want to die and pull the trigger.” She said, “If you really want to learn more, beyond an emergency situation I can teach you.”

“Not sure I ever do.”

“Good, then we can both agree you won’t touch it unless it’s a life or death matter?”

“You can bet your arse I won’t.”

“Great.” She smiled and went into a pantry and got down a box of pop tarts. It was rare for her to eat these but he wasn’t cooking, she wasn’t going to ask, and she just wanted a sweet and horrible junky snack to help her feel better about this situation. He made a face as she took one out of the package and started to eat it without even attempting to toast it. “What?”

“Just….how can you eat that?”

“It’s good. I don’t always eat healthy. You’re welcome to cook something if you want.” She said, “I’ll probably eat that too.”

“You’re upset.”

“No shit.”

“And you said you’d tell me why.” He reminded her. She honestly wished he hadn’t remembered that part but it was stupid of her to think he’d have forgotten with how suspicious all of that must have looked when he’d come down there that morning. She took another bite of the pop tart and headed over to a bookshelf where she got down an album of photos. They were all from her wedding. She walked to the table and set it down for him then opened it to the first one, which was her standing at the altar with Mark. He walked over to the table and sat down next to her to look at the album.

“You’re married?”

“I was married…did I mention that? I might have I can’t remember, look…whatever the case may be he’s legally dead.” She said.

“By which you mean…?”

“Huh?”

“You didn’t just say dead you said legally dead which means there was some…thing that caused the government to declare him dead but you have a reason to believe otherwise.” He said looking at the picture as if he recognized Mark. It was possible he did but all those events were ten years prior and it would really depend how much time he’d spent in New York then and how much he paid attention to the news.

“That man is Mark Hoffman. He was the apprentice to a man known as The Jigsaw killer.” She said, not looking at him. This caused him to stand up and step back so quickly he nearly tripped over the chair and fell down. She sighed and shut the album.

“You didn’t…you…he…you were married to a fucking serial killer?!” He demanded in disbelief, “Holy shit…Leila are you fucking kidding me?”

“I didn’t know he was a serial killer.”

“Really? You expect me to believe-“

“Do you not think if I knew that I would still be an FBI agent? He married me so he could use me to help cover his tracks, he was also a police officer assigned to that case. What the fuck did you want me to think? Huh? Because he acted very damn normal. There were no signs, Gordon. That was the whole point. That’s how he got away with it!”

“But you…you said legally dead, what the hell happened?”

“He disappeared, there was no body and the killing stopped. To prevent the public from panicking after a year they declared him legally dead.” She said, “They found some blood but not nearly enough to say he had died it…it was a lie to keep people complacent but he hasn’t come back so maybe they…weren’t wrong.” She said.

“You don’t want him to be dead do you? The fuck is wrong with you then?”

“I loved him!” She yelled, “I’m sorry but I did, and I know it’s horrible okay? Do you think it’s easy for me to know who was in my house, who I am and what he was doing? Do you? And yes I know he was a killer and I agree what he did was horrible but I still loved him! I can’t lie to myself!”

“Leila…”

“No offense Gordon but you just stayed with a woman who beat you for ten years or whatever because…why? Can you explain it? Maybe you don’t love her but you lied to yourself and told yourself that you did. People do crazy shit to justify a normal existence. I didn’t want it to be this way but it is and I mean he never hurt me, he made very sure that my reputation wasn’t fucked up because of this. It’s a shit reason to not hate him but it’s a reason. I’m not a killer, I’m glad that he stopped, whether he’s alive or dead but just try to understand the position I’ve been in for the last ten fucking years. PLEASE!” She begged. He looked angry but she wasn’t sure if it was more because he was angry at her or at himself. Maybe a combination of both, “I’m telling you this right now because someone sent me a box letting me know that they know I’m was married to him because they are attempting to blackmail me. I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to feel betrayed or like I was hiding it. I’m telling you this because of what we’ve been through the past few days and you deserve to know because I want you to be able to trust me.”

“I need a moment-“

“Gordon.”

“JUST GIVE ME A BLOODY MOMENT LEILA!” He yelled at her and headed out of there going upstairs. She watched him go, standing there for a long moment before picking up the photo album and walking to the couch. She sat down there, keeping the album on her lap and started to softly cry.

* * *

At some point she must have dozed off on the couch because the next thing she knew, he was waking her up by shaking her a bit. The photo album was clutched in her arms to her chest. She couldn’t remember what she had been dreaming about but she also had some gross and eerie feeling that it had probably been a nightmare. Her eyes opened and she saw him. He offered her a soft smile and went to sit down in a chair across from the couch. He was dressed now but she didn’t see any packed bags or any indication of wanting to run off.

“I need to ask you a few questions.” He said softly. She nodded and sat up, rubbing her eyes and trying to suppress a yawn.

“The FBI knows that you were married to him?”

“Yes.” She said, “It was before I was a full agent. We were both much younger.”

“And they cleared you of…you know any…whatever the hell, helping him?”

“Yes.” She said, “I can show you the reports if you want I have copies for legal purposes but as you can imagine they aren’t highly publicized.”

“Which brings me to my next question, why?”

“Why aren’t they highly publicized?”

“Yes.”

“Well, for any normal person they probably would be except I have a lot of money and I can afford good lawyers. Between that and also being an FBI agent or at least on the verge of becoming one don’t you think there’s a reason people would want that hidden? Myself and my family included? This was even before my parents died.” She said. “It’s not…erased. There are still records but it’s very hard to find them on the internet. Had to sue a lot of people and pay even more people to bury search results. It was hell at the time but after ten years it’s almost untraceable. Unless you are specifically out to get me.”

“Then who would be out to get you?”

“Do I have to say it?” She asked. He looked away from her and shook his head but it was in disbelief. He looked back at her.

“She has no proof we are…together.”

“We’re still together?” She asked sounding surprised.

“It was ten years ago we all make mistakes you didn’t know and I suppose I can’t hold it completely against you even if it kind of…unnerves me.” He said, “He’s really not dead?”

“There’s really no concrete evidence he is dead that doesn’t mean he’s not.”

“What if he comes back? He’d sure as hell murder me.” He pointed out.

“No he wouldn’t.” She said.

“Bullshit.”

“Not bullshit. Mark worked on a very specific M.O and you’d have to violate that for him to even consider killing you. He was not a cold blooded killer, do you know anything about the Jigsaw killings?”

“A bit. Something about traps and…appreciating life…”

“Right and are you a criminal or some kind of suicidal…depressed…look you don’t fit his model to kill. Your wife on the other hand…” She said then kind of winced because it was in poor taste to say it but that actually did make him laugh and pretty hard. It took him a moment to catch his breath.

“So you could promise me, swear to me on everything you hold dear that if he showed up here tomorrow and found you with me or another man, he wouldn’t outright kill them?” He asked.

“I’d put my own life on it.” She said seriously. “You have nothing to worry about I think if he was going to come back he would have by now and honestly all Mark ever wanted was to protect me and make me happy. I loved him yes but I’m not still in love with him.” He got up and moved over to her putting his arm around her and pulling her into him.

“I have to say this is not something I ever considered possible but, I cannot hold you responsible for shit you had no part in and didn’t know about.” He said softly. “I still need a bit of time to…process this but, I can get past it.” She turned and smiled up at him, pulling him into a kiss before hugging him tightly. The only thing she had left out about all of this was the address written on that paper. She was going to have to check it out herself and she wasn’t going to be able to tell him about that because whatever lay at that address wasn’t going to be anything good and she was going to need to figure out a way to investigate it as soon as possible because she had a feeling there was only a bit of time before it would be too late.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty graphic violence in this chapter? I can't actually tell since I spend most of my time writing fanfic for Hannibal and this is far less graphic than that. Also graphic descriptions of eye and face injuries under bandages.

It was easy to explain to Gordon that she had to take the box in to be processed. He understood, especially after her whole theory about Tera being involved somehow. There was only one person right now who would even want to blackmail her. The only other option was Mark trying to fuck with her but he hadn’t done it in ten years and he certainly wouldn’t be this threatening to her. The only thing she could believe was that this was a lie. The notes saying that this person knew where he was. She’d hired some of the best detectives imaginable to attempt to find him. She’d tried to find him herself. She had every access to every resource a person could have and in ten years she’d found no trace of Mark. How could Tera of all people have found him? Not on her own. The only chance of that happening was because he wanted to be found, not because that woman was any version of the word ‘intelligent’. 

She wrapped up all the stuff but excluded the papers and pictures. Even if the FBI did know about her involvement with Mark, the entire FBI didn’t. Which meant she wasn’t keen on the forensic lab she was taking this to finding out. The people that needed to know knew. Her superiors and the higher ups. As she had said, so much time had passed that it was basically forgotten. Except for the people who needed to know and they now knew well enough not to bring it up anymore. She’d proven herself as a good agent and an upstanding citizen. They never had a reason to question her anymore, at least not in that aspect. Once she had dropped it off to the lab, she headed for the address on the stack of papers that had been written in the corner. It was a shame because it was hand written and though handwriting analysis wasn’t an exact science it still could be helpful. The problem would be that she’d have to explain what that address was (or potentially was) and if Mark was there, she didn’t need a whole team of FBI agents with her. 

The address led her to a very defunct and basically abandoned part of the city. An area well known for any sort of illegal item or trade anyone could want. She had recognized the area the address would be in before leaving so she was dressed casually. She didn’t need to give away to anyone that she was actually law enforcement. Even if she had a gun on her it was concealed and she highly doubted she was the only one carrying in a place like this. She was probably the only person carrying something legally, though. 

There weren’t many people around, it was later in the day and the sun was starting to set but there was still enough natural daylight to see things. Among the dilapidated buildings and warehouses were a few shady bars and strip clubs. Some people stood along the streets smoking or having soft conversations about trading certain items. She walked on past, not paying any attention to this and acting like this was every day normal stuff for her. This was definitely an area Mark would have normally scouted, or a jigsaw game would have been held. It was sparsely populated and the people here, even if they did see stuff they were very unlikely to say they’d seen stuff. 

The address led her to a very isolated area in the middle of the block. It was bordered by two other empty-looking buildings. One looked like an apartment complex (or former) and the other just looked like a warehouse. Her building was smack dab in the middle and was so trashed that the address had been spray painted on the wall next to the metal door. The only brand new thing about this was the padlock and metal latch holding it shut. There had to be another way in. She had a lock picking kit but figured it was too bright still to stand there obviously picking a lock if someone came in that direction. There was probably a back door too. Some broken window or a neglected entrance. She’d find a way in and she’d see exactly what was going on here.

* * *

Gordon was still at the penthouse getting a bit nervous about the fact that Leila hadn’t returned. He had attempted to start to make dinner to distract himself but even that wasn’t working. He ended up ruining the food which made him realize he cared about her probably more than he should given the short amount of time they had done anything together. He ended up on the couch drinking some of her scotch and trying to convince himself that she was an FBI agent and would be fine. It was about that time that he heard the elevator ding. He turned to look, standing up quickly wanting to greet her as she returned but it wasn’t her. It was Tera. The glass fell from his hand and shattered on the hardwood floor. She saw him and looked a bit shocked herself. 

“Oops, wrong address.” She said but stepped out of the elevator anyway. 

“Get out.” He growled in a cold voice.

“Why are you ‘ere? And drinkin? Well I don’t think ‘ats appropriate.” She chided. 

“You are breaking and entering you dumb cunt, one is a crime and the other isn’t.” He snarled, “Now GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!” 

“Or what?” She asked her voice firm and intimidating. It made a chill run through him. As much as he had escaped her he really hadn’t. He’d been close but she honestly still terrified him. He took a deep breath and started towards her. 

“Where’s Leila, what did you do?” He demanded.

“Agent Dawson? You’re on a first-name basis with ‘er? I knew you were fuckin the little whore!” She accused him. 

“She’s a friend, Tera. I met her weeks ago. We talk and do things that friends do. You have no proof anything sexual is happening other than your own fucking delusions! GET OUT!” He came towards her with the intent to grab her and force her out of there. He’d had enough of this. 

“She’s not ‘ere, you’re ‘ere alone.” She said, “Why would that be? Other than you fuckin ‘er!” 

“I said leave. You just broke into an FBI agent’s apartment. I don’t even know how! There’s a specific key card and…Oh God you did something to her didn’t you!” 

“Calm down you little bitch.” She said as if she were annoyed and headed into the kitchen. He moved forward to grab at her arm but she picked up a knife from the counter and thrust it out towards him, the tip of it right at his neck. 

“You listen ‘ere.” She said in a cold voice, “You’re going to come back to me. You’re going to say you’re fucking sorry, publicly, and you lied about everything.” 

“No…Tera.” He said softly keeping still. His voice was very weak but somehow he still managed to tell her no, which was something he’d never been able to do before. She pushed in on the knife, pressing into his skin enough to pierce the skin.

“What?” She asked. 

“I said…no.” He repeated, his voice a bit more firm that time. He glanced around the room, his eyes briefly on the sink as that’s where Leila had shown him the gun was. He couldn’t do it, though. No. He wouldn’t be believed and even if he was, how could he kill a person? 

“You know where that whore went? Huh? She went lookin for that killer husband of ‘ers. She was married to a serial killer you know.” 

“I’m practically married to one, what’s the difference?” He demanded. She screamed angrily and wildly swung the knife slashing him across the face pretty badly, over his eye and down his cheek. He cried out in pain and stumbled back, clutching his face. 

“You tell anyone about this, and that bitch is dead. I’ll make you watch.” She hissed and stormed over to the elevator. She wiped the knife off on her skirt but she was taking it with her. He fell into the back of the couch and slid to the floor, still holding his face which was practically gushing blood at that point. “That is if she even makes it back here alive.” She got into the elevator and the doors shut behind her, it started to travel down to the first floor. Gordon felt dizzy and nauseous. The alcohol in his system definitely not helping things. He crawled towards the phone, luckily Leila had a landline, and he grabbed it to call 911. He didn’t know yet what he’d tell them once they got there but he knew that this wound wasn’t something that was going to stop bleeding on its own.

* * *

None of this made sense. This was definitely a jigsaw warehouse. There was no doubt about it. They were newer traps but all of them in some place had the Gideon emblem which meant parts somehow came from John’s warehouse. This place, though, it wasn’t discovered or hadn’t been. The FBI had definitely worked to find and shut down everything related to John Kramer. The man formerly known as Jigsaw. If there was all new stuff here, someone had put it here. The only possible person to know how to make any of this stuff would be Mark, and even if it wasn’t, he’d be the only one who would know how to get the blueprints to make it. She considered that there might be an apprentice but Mark hadn’t even fully liked the work himself. He’d been loyal to John only after being blackmailed. He’d wanted to get out but then that awful Jill woman…ugh, she didn’t want to think about it. The problem was there had been no more games, no more traps, no more bodies. Ten years. This could only mean he was planning something after ten years but he didn’t seem to even be there. At least not in the moment. 

“Mark…” She whispered her hand trailing over one of the traps softly. She got her phone out, hating herself for starting to call this into the FBI to investigate. She had loved Mark and not having closure on him was what killed her the most even if she didn’t still currently love him. If he was planning a new game or traps she couldn’t let him. It went against what she stood for and he’d have to know that. “If you are here you need to run, Mark. I have to call this in.” Just as she was about to dial her phone it started to ring. She yelped softly and answered the unknown number. 

“H-Hello?” She whispered. 

“Yes, Agent Dawson? You were to be contacted in case of emergency for Mr. Ramsay?” 

“What?” She asked softly and looked around. She was kind of surprised she was an emergency contact but it was possible the police had already been contacted if this was an emergency and her name would have definitely been around somewhere depending on what happened and what he’d told them. “Wait, is he okay? Oh God he’s not dead is he?” 

“No, Mr. Ramsay will be fine but we need you to come to St. Mary’s.” The voice told her.

“Yes, I’m on my way. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She told the woman. She hung up the phone and hurried out of there, her mind completely side tracked from calling in this new jigsaw warehouse to going to see Gordon and finding out exactly what had happened.

* * *

When she got into the hospital room, Gordon was on the bed. Most of his face was bandaged up, including his eye. She felt sick immediately and had to back out of the room. He was out, so he didn’t see her come in, hopefully if he heard anything he hadn’t realized it was her. She pressed her back into the wall and took in a few deep breaths trying not to vomit. All she could think was that if she hadn’t left to chase ghosts he’d be okay. Once she felt she was okay enough she came into the room.

He didn’t stir just then so she checked the bags attached to the IV. Saline and a morphine drip. She then checked around for notes about anything. Hospitals were more careful about that sort of thing these days so finding a chart wasn’t going to be easy. She was a medical doctor in the sense she had a medical degree but the only other expertise she had was the additional training she’d gotten to do autopsies. Luckily, he wasn’t a corpse, but also in that way she couldn’t cut him open and examine him. 

“Gordon,” She said softly and put her hand over his giving it a small squeeze. He stirred a bit and the eye that wasn’t bandaged looked towards her. It was glossy. He squinted. She reached for the button that would release more morphine and pressed it for him. “I’m here, do you know what happened?” He took in a sharp breath as the burning sting of the medication hit him and then after a moment started to relax. 

“It was an accident.” 

“Really?” She asked. “Come on now, because you’re probably the most expert knife handler I know and there’s no way you’re going to convince me you stabbed yourself in the face and eye so severely that this is where you ended up. I don’t think you could accidentally do that even if you were super, blackout drunk.” 

“Leila,”

“What?” She asked, “Look I’m an FBI agent I will figure out who did this with or without your help. You know that. Helping me would be the better option. Sorry…I know that sounds threatening I don’t mean it as such but as you can imagine I am very angry.” 

“She sent you out there.” He muttered, “Didn’t she? She gave you the box, that’s what you found out?” 

“Not definitively but I had my suspicions. Did Tera do this?” He looked away from her and didn’t say anything. She tried to be patient. She wasn’t even upset with him, she was upset with herself and she was upset that she somehow let her guard down enough to allow that woman to get to him, however, she had. Maybe that shady lawyer of hers really did have mafia connections. 

“Buildings like yours have security cameras, yeah?” He asked softly. 

“Yes but-“

“Well, the important thing here is I’m not telling you anything that you can’t find out for yourself.” He said very firmly looking her right in the eye as he did. She could only take that to mean that he’d been threatened not to say who did it. “Leila…”

“Right no, I get it.” She said, “You didn’t tell me anything, it was an accident.” He finally closed his eye and took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. 

“Thank you.” He whispered. “How bad is it? What won’t the doctors tell me?” 

“I don’t actually know. All I could get out of any of them was that you were cut in an attack. Which is why I wasn’t going to believe it was some kind of accident.” 

“Oh so you came in here to play bad cop with me first, I see how it is.” He chuckled, “Now go to that to them and tell me the truth.” 

“I could probably lift the bandages and give you a good estimate. They are going to be very nice about it and tell you optimistic predictions.” She said. 

“Do it. Before you get caught.” 

“You’re sure?” She asked. 

“Fucking hell, Leila.” 

“Alright, alright.” She got up and shut the door then disinfected her hands with hand sanitizer. After that she put on some gloves for good measure and came over to the bed. She took a deep breath then leaned over him to move the bandages a bit. “Just so you are aware most of my medical expertise is well…doing autopsies.” 

“Not sure that makes me feel better right now.” 

“Oh be quiet, I’m still trained like any other doctor here I just don’t practice it.” She said, “Besides if this had killed you I could have examined your body and told people why.” 

“You have a very interesting life don’t you?”

“Not sure that’s the word I’d use.” She whispered and started to prod at the bandages. “If I hurt you let me know or just suck it up until I’m done.” 

“I’m not a baby you know.” 

“Really?”

“Okay just shut up and do it.” He hissed. She snickered and pushed the bandages back. There was stitching starting up at his forehead above his eyebrow, then a gauze pad over his eye which had blood soaked into it, they’d probably be changing this soon. Under that the line continued down his cheek ending about an inch above his mouth. It was going to scar no doubt about that. She kept a poker face though, and slowly lifted the gauze pad over his eye. It had been stitched shut too. 

“Leila?” He whispered. 

“What do you think you are doing?” A firm male voice came from behind her. She gasped and quickly stepped back, putting her hands up. 

“She’s a doctor,” Gordon said. 

“She’s not your doctor.” He replied. 

“So fucking what? I asked her to check. She’s just a bloody qualified as you are.” He snapped. Leila turned to look at the man who indeed appeared to be his doctor. 

“Sorry,” she said, “But he is right, I am a doctor. Even if I wasn’t it’s legally his choice if I check that or not.” 

“Well, it’s against medical advice.” 

“You can shove your medical advice up your stuffy fat arse for all I care.” Gordon muttered. The doctor clearly heard him say that but chose not to address it while Leila tried to tell herself it was the morphine but it probably wasn’t the morphine. There was every chance he’d have said that even if he were sober. 

“Right well, Mr. Ramsay the prognosis is definitely better than to be expected.” He said, “We believe you will retain full use of your eye, just need to go through the healing process.” 

“And how long is that?” 

“Oh, about 6 to 8 weeks. The stitches can be removed in a few days.” He said casually as if this were no big deal. To be fair, Leila didn’t know much about eyes or what was going on. It was possible the eye had been stitched shut just to aid healing or this guy was bullshitting them entirely. Gordon glanced at Leila like he wanted her to say something. 

“Why is…what happened to his eye?” She asked, “How extensive is that damage?” 

“Well, the tricky thing is that we won’t know until he’s a bit more healed.” 

“So how can your prognosis of him retaining sight in that eye be so incredibly positive?” She asked. 

“Look Miss-“

“Doctor. Doctor Dawson.” 

“Right. From what we can tell, initially, it appears it’s just a scratched cornea. The eye being stitched shut was a precautionary measure. Due to the laceration, it’s better if that area of his face stays as still as possible for just a bit to ensure nothing tears.” He said. She nodded. From what she knew that all sounded plausible and she didn’t know enough to ask any further questions about it. 

“Next time, tell the truth from the start.” Gordon snorted. 

“I’ll be sending the nurse in to change the bandages in a few minutes.” The doctor told them and then headed out of there. Leila took off the gloves and tossed them in the trash before cleaning her hands again. She took a seat next to Gordon and sighed. 

“Thank you for doing that. I could have done it myself but it would have been far less technical and far more foul-mouthed.” He said. “It’s really that bad?” 

“It looks bad but what he’s saying is most likely true except he’s being nice about it. You may not get your vision back in that eye. They don’t actually know. The good news is that your eye is still in there it wasn’t damaged enough they had to remove it.” 

“Let me get up and do a little dance then.” He quipped. She looked at him. 

“Chicks dig a guy with a bad ass scar on his face you know.” She said trying to lighten the mood a bit. He reached for her hand and she reached out to take his. 

“Are you one of them?” 

“Of course.” She said.

“Then that’s all that really matters.” He yawned and shifted a bit as the morphine started to take a better hold and he began to drift off. “Stay here, at least until I’m asleep then go do whatever it is you need to.” 

“I’ll stay.” She whispered, “You need to rest.” He nodded and then rolled over to face her, luckily she was on the side where his face wasn’t injured and he could get comfortable that way. He looked at her for a moment before his eye finally shut and his breathing settled into a regular rhythm that indicated sleep. She only held it together for another minute or so before breaking down into silent tears. She was going to nail Tera for all of this, that bitch would not get away with what she had done. 


	10. Chapter 10

He wasn’t released until about a week later. By that point, Leila had been so involved in the investigation over Gordon’s assault she’d pretty much forgotten she’d found anything having to do with Mark. It was in the back of her mind but she mostly wanted to forget because she didn’t want to have to call it in and risk Mark being found and arrested. Though, the problem within that lay with the fact that he was legally dead. Him just looking like Mark wasn’t enough for them to arrest him or get a DNA warrant. There would be some probable cause, though, if he was found around a whole bunch of Jigsaw traps.

Within this time period, Tera had been arrested and her bail had been set unreasonably high. Leila had stayed to try to fight to get her held without bail but she was a woman and not considered as dangerous as she should be. Leila couldn’t even prove that what she had done was attempted murder. It probably wasn’t. It was definitely felony assault, though. This had set her bail at nearly two million dollars. It was posted a day later and she was out. The trial wasn’t for another few weeks and because she kept adding charges it kept getting delayed. Leila was hoping she’d either leave them alone or do something so incredibly illegal that she’d be on her third strike and held without any chance of freedom.

Gordon was back at her place by then. The stitches had been removed and the scar was fresh but he looked a ton better. At that point, he just had an eyepatch and the bandages over that needed to be changed regularly. As one would imagine, he was still in considerable pain so Leila was doing everything for him. She refused to leave for anything, opting to have all of the supplies she needed delivered. Gordon had assured her he would be fine if she left and got some kind of break from him but she refused. She had to keep him safe until the trial and that stupid bitch was in jail. Nothing was going to happen to him under her watch.

It was later in the evening and they had just eaten dinner. She’d ordered out because he hadn’t wanted to cook for obvious reasons and she wasn’t even going to ask him to do that. She let him choose the food though, figuring he’d know the good places around there. He said that he was going to go lay down after taking some pain medications and she told him she was going to be out on the terrace, the one just outside of her room, in the hot tub. There was a gazebo there, completely enclosed with glass doors and windows surrounding it so she could look out onto the city while relaxing. The glass was reflective, like a two-way mirror so she could see out but no one could see in. Even if she was high up in that penthouse she didn’t want to risk it.

She walked out to the gazebo in her robe and some sandals and stepped inside, turning on the jets and starting up the towel warmer. After putting on some music and getting a cold beer from the mini-fridge in there, she removed the robe. She was completely naked under it, as usual. After glancing through the doors, she got a pack of cigarettes as well and took one out. She lit it, opened her beer, and got into the hot tub slowly. Gordon wasn’t a fan of her smoking or anyone smoking. It was something she did rarely but she was practically outside here and he was inside resting. Or so she thought.

Halfway through the cigarette, the door to the gazebo opened. Her eyes did as well and she saw him. Quickly, she snuffed the cigarette out and waved her hand through the air a bit. There were filters in there to prevent it from getting too steamy, so now that she had stopped it should clear the smell soon enough. She smiled sheepishly at him and then took a few gulps of beer. He laughed and came in, shutting the door behind him.

“You sure you should be up?”

“I’m a grown man I think I can handle the walk from my bedroom to here.” He said, “Speaking of which, when do we get to start sharing a room. Not like you don’t have a gigantic, custom bed.”

“Whenever you are ready.” She said. “Want to join me?”

“You’re naked in there.”

“So? I own the thing and it’s chlorinated. Not much to worry about unless you have overly sensitive skin.” She said. He grinned stupidly. She could tell he was a bit fuzzy from the painkillers he had taken but nothing more than a light buzz. He pulled off his shirt and walked over to the mini-fridge. “Oh no, no alcohol for you. I know what you are on right now and that would not be a good idea.”

“Really? Well, thank you, mother, for the advice.” He teased but opened it anyway and took out one of the bottles of mineral water she had chilling in there. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.” She smiled. The city view looked beautiful from there, especially at night. He stripped the rest of the way down and then slipped into the tub sighing softly.

“This is nice.” He said, “I regret I will never have even half of the money you do.”

“You wouldn’t know what to do with it. I literally give millions to charity a year.” She said, “I mean not that it’s a bad thing, I like doing that, but still…even after that point, it’s still too much.”

“What good would it do me anyway? Tera would get half of it.” He grumbled.

“After this? No way. I’ll get you some billion dollar psychopath lawyers, she’ll end up owing you money.” She smiled and moved towards him and he wrapped an arm around her.

“Are you sure this doesn’t look too bad?” He asked, motioning to his general face wound area.

“I mean, I can’t lie, it looks bad now but it’ll get better. There’s no infection and you are surprisingly good at not picking at it. Honestly, I’d be scratching the damn thing all the time.” She said, reaching up to stroke his hair softly.

“Face is my money maker. Can’t be going around doing that.” He said.

“Yeah well, fortunately, I don’t have to look pretty to also be an FBI agent.” She giggled and started to kiss at his neck and shoulder softly. He let out a content sigh and started to relax back a bit more as her hands moved over his chest.

“You’re sure you don’t mind this?” He muttered.

“What? Sex in a hot tub?” She snickered into his skin as her hand reached his cock and started to stroke it firmly. He groaned and tightened his grip on her a bit as he shifted.

“Not that…the scar.”

“Look, you probably don’t want to hear this right now but Mark had one, a bad one. I didn’t care because I loved him and I love…” She cut herself off, feeling her face get hot and not just because of the water they were both sitting in. She swallowed hard and continued what she was doing. He perked up a bit, sitting up more straight when she said that.

“Leila,”

“I just…sorry it’s-“

“It’s fine, I know. Just…lets not get ourselves in too deep just yet, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She whispered and looked up pulling him down into a kiss. She moved to straddle him and then carefully worked her way down onto his cock, her hands pressed against his chest and her nails digging into the skin a bit sharply. She let out a gasp of pleasure and then a moan. His hands moved to her hips as she worked herself all the way down and started to move in a slow, pleasurable rhythm. He looked up into her eyes as she looked down at him, kissing him again softly as she let out a little moan. His hands slid up over her stomach to her chest, caressing her breasts firmly a thumb working over either nipple. She shuddered with pleasure and her head dipped down, pressing into the crook of his neck where she began to nip at his skin.

She wasn’t worried that he hadn’t said anything back to her in way of love. She knew she shouldn’t have even said it in the first place. It was something that had just slipped out. It was too soon. She would even admit that she might be wrong about it herself. What she did know was she deeply cared for him after all they had been through in the past few weeks. That wasn’t going to change. However, it would be selfish of her to start to make demands of him. To expect that he would feel the same way or say the same things to her. Trauma did have a good way of bonding people together but it didn’t mean they would always be together. As she said from the start, she wanted him to make the decisions here and she didn’t want to force him into anything. Make him feel pressured or feel guilty. If ultimately he did leave, then that would be his choice. As of now, he had to stay around because it was most safe for him there and he didn’t have a permanent place to go where he would also get privacy and be as protected. She would take care of him and allow this until it was absolutely safe enough for him to take the next step.

She kept working her hips, speeding up, her nails raking over his back gently, not enough to make him bleed but enough to leave a few red lines which stung in the water. He didn’t seem to mind this, there was a bit of a hiss of pain but then he thrust up towards her with a loud moan. She lifted her head again to look at him and his hands came up to cup her face, holding it firmly and directing her so she’d be making eye contact with him. He almost looked like he was going to say it, return her sentiments of love but it never came. He climaxed a moment later with a loud moan, bucking up towards her and she cried out seconds later in her own pleasure as she orgasmed as well. The maintenance guy was not going to be very happy with her for this. It had been a while since she’d had sex in her hot tub but it really wasn’t nice to clean out the filters after that. She panted softly and rested against him, trying to get her breath back and he wrapped his arms around her gently but some how still in a firm and protective manner.

“I do appreciate all of this. Letting me stay here and taking care of me. It can’t be easy on you.” He whispered.

“Well, all the good food has helped.” She joked. He laughed and stroked the few strands of hair that had come out of the messy bun she’d put it in. He shifted and started to kiss her neck and shoulder gently when he paused. She could feel him get incredibly tense like he had just seen a ghost. “Gordon?”

“Wh-What side of his…his face was scarred?”

“Who? Mark?” She asked trying to figure out why he was suddenly bringing this up and in such a fearful manner. She glanced up at him and saw he was staring straight ahead. There was a man standing on the terrace outside of the gazebo, dressed in black. Not just any man, that was definitely Mark. She didn’t really even have to see his face to know.

“Hey…Gordon remember what I told you, he won’t hurt you. I promise.” She whispered, “Besides he can’t see in here that’s two-way glass. Just take some deep breaths.” If she had been alone she’d be freaking out. The only thing keeping her grounded in the moment was that her concern was on him and she didn’t want him to panic. The surge of emotions that she should have felt was being suppressed nicely as she focused on his needs.

“Leila…” He grabbed her wrist firmly.

“I promise it’s okay. I’ll go talk to him. You stay here I won’t let anything happen to you.” She kissed his cheek softly then got out of the hot tub and grabbed a towel from the towel warmer, wrapping it around herself. She stepped over to the glass doors and took a deep breath before resting her hand on the glass and pushing it open. She stepped out as quickly as possible so there was no chance of him seeing Gordon. She didn’t fear he’d do anything to Gordon but she knew that he was afraid and so she figured if he thought Mark could see him it would just make things worse. She walked over to him and he was just staring at her in the dim lighting of the rest of the terrace. She looked up at him, and her rage flared up, which caused her to slap him across the face before she could even think about it. He reeled a bit from the blow, he didn’t falter though, his head just violently turned to the side and his hand came up to touch his cheek gently.

“I suppose I deserved that.” He said slowly, “Probably deserved an actual punch.”

“What the hell do you want? And how did you…how Mark? How did you get on my fucking bedroom terrace? You know what, don’t even tell me. Ten years. TEN FUCKING YEARS!” She screamed.

“Nine years, eleven months, twenty-seven days, thirteen hours, four minutes…”

“Shut up. Why does it even matter it’s close enough. You’ve been alive? This whole time and you come back now?” She started to pace angrily. “I need a cigarette.”

“You don’t smoke.”

“Yeah but you did and I missed it so I picked up the habit.” She told him angrily, “I had no idea what happened to you and you left me, for that long, then I find you setting up some traps in a warehouse to do God only knows what and suddenly you are on my terrace with your magic, ninja, John Kramer sneaking around bullshit.”

“It’ll be ten years in three days. There will be game. You weren’t supposed to know but, here we are.”

“Mark…you aren’t starting this again.” She warned him, “I will turn you in. You can’t negotiate your way out of this.”

“I’m legally dead.” He said, “Can’t convict a legally dead man.”

“But I know!”

“You’d send me to prison?” He asked, “Well, it is your job but you certainly weren’t doing your job ten years ago when-“ He suddenly paused. He was looking at something. She turned around to see Gordon poking his head out of the door to the gazebo.

“Mark,”

“Is that Gordon Ramsay?”

“Really, are you that surprised? I’m sure you totally didn’t know I was on his case.” She rolled her eyes, “Probably been spying on me this entire time.”

“Spying isn’t the word I’d use. Protecting…guarding…something more like that.” He said and then sighed, “And I did know that part but I didn’t know you two were…”

“Look I don’t want any trouble.” Gordon told him.

“There won’t be any trouble from me.” Mark said, “I have nothing against you.” He was completely calm about it too. Leila turned back to look at him. In a small way that kind of hurt, only because she wished maybe he’d be just a bit upset or jealous but it was understandable as it had been so long he’d probably come to terms with the fact that she would have moved on with her life. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had as well, but she wouldn’t be able to say she was super happy about it either. Mostly because it was his choice to leave her like he had which would mean he also willingly chose to dump her in that moment and run off to some other woman. This whole situation was confusing.

“Gordon this is…”

“Mark.” Gordon said, “Yeah I know.” He shifted on his feet nervously. As much as it looked like he wanted to run off screaming he wasn’t. Leila found it endearing that he was at least attempting to stay there to make sure that nothing bad happened. It wouldn’t, Mark wouldn’t ever hurt her nor would he hurt Gordon. It was reasonable that Gordon had no reason to think that but she knew that it wasn’t as dangerous of a situation as he believed.

“He’s not going to go in there and call the cops is he? At least give me a head start.” He looked at Gordon and chuckled lightly trying to bring a bit of humor to the situation. Gordon stepped up to Leila and put an arm around her gently.

“She is FBI, yeah? I think she can handle this herself.” He said. Leila looked up at him with grateful eyes.

“Are you two…”

“Yes.” Leila said softly, “It’s been ten years Mark.”

“I know.” He sighed, “Part of me hoped you’d wait for me but the logical human nature side of me knew that…I stood no chance. I just want you to be happy and, he can cook, wasn’t that your biggest complaint about me? I wish you two the best.”

“Thank you.” She said softly.

“Look can I just have a moment with her alone?” Mark asked, “I promise I’m not going to try to steal her back or hurt her, or you. I can tell she told you about me. Either that or you remember who I am.”

“Take all the time you need, within reason.” Gordon said. He gave Leila a hug and headed back inside.

* * *

It was tempting to spy on them there was no doubt about that. Gordon honestly wasn’t concerned that she would fall back in love with him. Not after the way he’d seen her react. This also couldn’t be easy for her. It certainly wasn’t for him and he imagined if he was in her shoes he wouldn’t know what to do either. The way she was speaking and holding herself around him, she looked visibly torn. Like she wanted to do her job and call it in but she still felt she had some type of loyalty to him as well. He tried to imagine being in that specific spot. It was hard, hard enough that he could at least admit there wasn’t a right answer to this specific problem. He watched them for a moment through the patio doors and then left to get changed so he wouldn’t be too tempted to go back out there for at least another few minutes.

* * *

“John wanted this, after ten years. A reminder of-“

“Mark, you already got away with murder, a lot of them. So did I. If you start this shit again just because John wanted it people will start asking questions. Especially about me and what I did with Jill. I cannot have all of that opened again.”

“No one knows about your involvement with Jill.”

“Really? Because they got so close last time, Mark.”

“Oh come on Leila they all think she’s one of my victims and technically by proxy she is. Besides she would have killed me, that’s easily self defense.” He pointed out.

“Maybe if you had killed her.”

“You were acting in defense of me.” He said.

“Really?”

* * *

After he had gotten changed, only wearing jeans and a black t-shirt he paced for a moment then went to the kitchen. Even though Leila had told him he wasn’t going to drink, Leila wasn’t in the kitchen and he was sure a small bit of wine wouldn’t matter too much. The narcotics he took to help with the pain of the injury were still buzzing his mind a bit but not enough to drown out the almost panic he felt knowing a serial killer was up on the terrace out side of Leila’s bedroom. Yet, interestingly enough, it never once dawned on him to call the police or even want to. He didn’t believe he was in danger and Mark had done nothing to indicate that. It was less that he felt unsafe and more the moral struggle between what was right to do and what wasn’t. It seemed bad not to call the police but part of what he heard Leila say was right. He was legally dead, they couldn’t possibly get a warrant just because he looked like a serial killer. That wasn’t how the legal process worked. Calling the police would not only backfire but it would make him look like a nutcase and that was the last thing he needed in the moment. As he was sipping his glass of wine, the intercom buzzed. He jumped a bit, not expecting that and walked over to answer it.

* * *

“I can’t know about this Mark. I can’t. If you pull me down with you…”

“Then you shouldn’t have gone around touching the traps in there. I had to wipe down everything. You’re smarter than that Leila.” He said and moved away from her, “You want to get dressed? It can’t be fun in that towel out here.”

“You aren’t staying that long.” She said, “Mark, you have no idea what I went through after you and I’m not going to let that happen again. I’m with Gordon, and I will do my job.”

“You aren’t doing it now.” He said then took off his jacket and wrapped it around her gently. “Leila, if you don’t know when the games will happen, or where, you can’t stop me nor can you report it and you know that.”

“I know where that warehouse is and what’s more concerning is someone else told me.” She said, “Which you should be very worried about.”

“I let her find it.” He said.

“What? WHAT THE HELL FOR?”

It was just that moment that Gordon came out onto the terrace looking kind of panicked. Both of them turned to look at him wondering what the hell was going on.

“Police…they are here…on the way up on the elevator.” He panted and then had to lean against the wall to catch his breath.

“You called them?” Mark snapped sounding angry.

“No I didn’t call them you idiot why the fuck would I warn you if I also called them?” Gordon snapped.

“Okay fine…he has a point Mark but…who did call them?”

“The fuck if I know!” Gordon snapped, “They said something about a…domestic disturbance. They needed to check on you, specifically. I was casual with them but he needs to go. Now.” Mark looked at Leila and pulled her into a hug. He was gone then, as quickly as he came, going down over the fire escape like he’d done this a million times. It left her to wonder how many times he’d climbed up here without her knowing just to check in on her. It kind of creeped her out but it was also a nice thought. That he’d always been watching over her even if she didn’t know about it. She wiped her eyes and then took in a deep breath shrugging off the jacket and handing it to Gordon before hurrying back into the penthouse to greet the police.

* * *

She made it down there just as the elevator doors were opening. Luckily that damn thing was slow and took nearly a minute to get up to her penthouse. Normally it wasn’t, but as she had mentioned to Gordon there had been issues with it as of late and her building was very slow about fixing them. The fact she was in a towel and her hair was still kind of wet helped her as well. It seemed like she was just doing something normal, like showering, and had to come talk to them.

“Hello, Ma’am. We got a call about a domestic disturbance?”

“You got a prank call.” Leila said, “I’m fine.”

“What about the man who answered the intercom? Can we speak to him?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake I’m an FBI agent.” She said, “You want to see my badge? Because I think if there was a domestic anything going on here, I would take care of it myself. Do I look hurt to you?”

“You seem kind of upset.” The other officer pointed out.

“Maybe because I was trying to take a nice soak in my hot tub and this happens?” She asked. They both looked at her then at each other.

“I’d like to see that badge then.” The first officer said. She grumbled and turned to go get it from her coat which was draped over the couch. She pulled it out and walked it back to them.

“Let me guess, the person who called was named Tera Ramsay?”

“They didn’t leave a name, Ma’am. It was an anonymous call.” He said taking her badge to look it over.

“Well it was her, she’s been harassing me ever since I started working on her husband’s case. Look into it. She’s probably going to jail soon and is going to mess with me as much as possible.” She explained, “I’m serious.”

“Badge checks out.” He told his partner, “And you are sure everything is fine here, Ma’am?”

“I’m not old enough to be a Ma’am and yes, I’m sure.” She snatched the badge back from him and set it on the counter. “Anything else you need?”

“No, that will be all. Have a good night.” The second officer said. They got onto the elevator and were gone a moment later. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Gordon came out and down the stairs a moment later.

“Are they gone?”

“Yes,” She said, “I’m not sure how she thought that would work or what it would accomplish but I’m getting really sick of her shit.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He said and walked over to her putting his arms around her gently. She just stood there for a moment before hugging him back tightly and starting to cry. A flood of emotions came over her and she pressed her face tightly against him. He stroked her hair softly and stood there, comforting her the best he could. This was all too much and of course, Mark had to return right now. She didn’t know how she was going to handle all of this but she knew that she wasn’t going to let it beat her and she wasn’t going to let Tera win.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It gets super crazy in this chapter and i expect most people to just straight up stop reading but whatever this is what has happened now so deal with it.

It was later that night and Leila was in bed, awake. Just laying there. Gordon was next to her, having finally decided he was going to share a bed with her. She didn’t know if it was out of fear for himself or wanting to protect her if Mark came back. Possibly a bit of both. The weird thing was, he couldn’t have feared Mark that much as he allowed the man time to escape which was nice but immoral. Leila knew she shouldn’t have even let Mark leave. The problem was that the end of the day, he was right. Just because he looked like Mark didn’t give the FBI, or any other sort of law enforcement the right to detain, question, or test him for DNA. He’d have to be a legitimate suspect in a crime and knowing how Mark was even if Leila had called in the location of the warehouse so what? They’d have found fingerprints, maybe, but they’d still technically have belonged to a dead man. It was a whole host of complicated legal issues that made Mark nearly impossible to arrest if only from a legal standpoint. Not a logical one. She looked over at Gordon who was sleeping, probably thanks to his painkiller cocktail for his face and sighed. She rolled over and saw her phone light up in the dark. It was a text message. She sat up to look at it. 

Just thinking about how ironic his name is. Gordon. 

Who is this?

The number at the top it wasn’t just labeled as “unlisted” it was a weird combination of letters, symbols, and numbers. She had a feeling even if she wanted to trace this or prove who it was, it wasn’t going to lead back to anyone. In that way it had to be Mark and she rolled her eyes in annoyance of her own stupidity. 

You really don’t know?

What about his name then?

Doctor Gordon/Gordon Ramsay 

Maybe? I don’t know why it’s ironic though. 

Laurence Gordon was my downfall 

Leila nearly dropped the phone when she saw that. Obviously somewhere along the line Mark assumed she had learned that but she hadn’t. No one had. All anyone knew, at least FBI wise, was that Mark had vanished. Then later some of his blood was found. Not nearly enough to declare him dead but enough that they did it anyway to prevent some sort of widespread panic about a serial killer still being out there. She knew exactly who he was. Mainly because Mark never shut up about how big of an asshole the guy was. By all accounts, he really was an asshole and it was the reason he was in one of the first Jigsaw traps, not that she had thought he deserved. Not until now. That asshole walked around like he was a victim and he was what brought an end to all of this? 

Leila it’s over now. I take it the guys at the FBI never figured out that part? 

No. How did you not know that. 

I theorized. Specifically because he was never arrested for anything. It doesn’t mean someone didn’t think he could be involved or mentioned it in your general vicinity. People gossip. Especially law enforcement. 

He should be dead. 

He got what was coming to him. You know you can’t have me back and we can’t ever make this work. Focus on the man in your bed not the man behind the pig mask. 

She knew he was right and she still didn’t want him back but this still made her incredibly angry. That asshole Gordon. She’d never been allowed to question him or get anywhere near him. Not after the point where he had remarked that Mark had gotten what was coming to him right to her face. She was lucky that no one caught what he had said and he never admitted to it because her violent reaction to that comment at the time could have very well gotten her caught. As it was, she played it off as some sort of temporary rage finding out that her husband had been a serial killer right under her nose. Her emotional rollercoaster in those days had been severe and she had to live it in public. She was fortunate enough that people sympathized with her and believed her. She faired far better in that situation than the Gordon next to her was fairing in the media from the domestic abuse claims. 

Even if she didn’t want him back, they had been married for years, there had been feelings there. Part of her couldn’t help but to wonder what would have happened if he had made it home that night. If he had never been caught. If he’d have actually stopped at the last game or found a way to justify continuing until he got caught. With the fact that he’d come back after 10 years only to follow up another stupid wish of John Kramer’s it was clear that she was making the right choice not clinging to the false hope of a reunion. He was better off where he was staying in the shadows. 

I don’t want to talk about this any more Mark. I don’t even want to talk to you. 

Understood. Just understand that whatever happens, you and Gordon will be safe. No matter what. 

She didn’t like what that last message said, in fact, it downright terrified her. As she was going to type a response, the message spontaneously encrypted itself. Beginning to scramble and and lock up until the message had vanished entirely. Suddenly, the phone loudly blared the annoying laughter of that stupid doll. She screamed and threw the phone across the room. Gordon jerked awake from both noises and she looked over at him. She must have looked pretty terrified because he sat up quickly and pulled her close. 

“Leila?” 

“Sorry I…bad dream is all.” 

“Bad dreams that we share apparently because I also heard some sort of demonic laughing clown.” He said. The phone had shut off either because it was broken or whatever Mark had done it was only meant to last about three seconds before stopping. She supposed she couldn’t play it off as a dream but she couldn’t show Gordon the texts either considering what she had seen happen to them. 

“Mark texted me.” She whispered, “He wanted to let me know that he wishes us both the best and there are no hard feelings.” It was easier to explain it that way than to explain who the other Gordon was, what that had to do with this, and then terrify him with the last message about them being safe no matter what might happen. With how Mark was behaving he certainly couldn’t expect her to even want to come back to him which was good because she never had in the first place. 

“Lovely.” Gordon muttered, “Well, at very least I can’t say I’ve ever had the blessings of a serial killer before but I suppose that’s better than being on his bad side.” 

“Yeah. It is.” She yawned and gently pushed him back down so she could lay with him as he still held her. “But I told you, Mark never killed anyone in cold blood or without a specific motive and you don’t fit any of that. There should be nothing for you or me to worry about.” That was true they really shouldn’t have anything to worry about about she wasn’t sure that they didn’t.

* * *

 

A few days later she was forced to go into the office to take care of some mundane things pertaining to Gordon and his case. He wasn’t needed there and though she didn’t want to leave him, he insisted she leave the house for at least a few hours that week and he’d be okay. A decision that proved to be a mistake. When she returned home, everything was completely dark. It seemed that every lightbulb in there had been shattered. Any switch she tried didn’t work. The sunlight blocking curtains on every window were down and this made it nearly impossible to see. From her pocket she got her flashlight and from her holster she pulled her gun. The place was completely trashed. The only thing she could think was that Tera had gotten in there. She’d been watching the place and saw her leave and came after Gordon. 

She didn’t announce her arrival there, even though she should have as an FBI agent. The thing was, she also didn’t have to because this was her own home and she wasn’t breaking any laws by entering it. Part of her was praying that Tera would be behind this so when she ended up shooting her in the head she had a legal defense. She made her way to the stairs, tempted to call out for Gordon but holding back. She feared finding his dead body somewhere and she figured that if she didn’t call for him, she couldn’t find him dead. It was flawed logic at best but it was keeping her from outright losing her mind in the moment as she headed up the stairs. The first room she checked was the guest room. It was also trashed, like whoever had been in there was looking for incriminating evidence. Her heart started to pound as she traced the flashlight over the area. Her thoughts racing so quickly she never noticed the person sneaking up behind her in order to grab her and inject her with a sedative.

* * *

When she woke up next, her head hurt from the after effects from being drugged. She lifted her head but something was off. It hurt too bad and it was far too heavy. She went to lift her hands only to find out the right one, her dominant hand, was chained to the chair. The left one was not. Staying as still as humanly possible, she lifted that hand to her head and she felt it. The fucking reverse bear trap. It was the one she had run her hand over when she had found the workshop. She very quickly started to hyperventilate before forcing herself to calm down. Fucking Mark. Okay, there was a way out of this, someone would need a key, she would. How the hell was she going to get it if her hand was chained to a fucking chair though? She ran her hand gently to the back of the trap, there was a wire and pin there. A padlock. As long as she kept as still as possible and did not pull the pin, she had time to figure this out. It would keep her alive.

That’s when she heard him. A soft groan and muttering. A voice that couldn’t be anyone other than Gordon. She was tempted to turn to look behind her but knew if she did that, the pin would pull and start the timer to the trap. All she could do was stay there and make minimal noises that absolutely were not words to alert him to her presence there. 

“Leila?” He whispered. There was movement behind her before he came into the light, walking around in front of the chair. “The fuck has he done to you? You said he’d never hurt you! That fucking bastard!” 

She tried to tell him to calm down, mostly because as scared as she was, not to mention angry, she knew there had to be more to this than what they were currently seeing. She had to explain this to him, somehow, but without words. There was nothing to lead her to believe he knew sign language and even if he did she only could remember a few letters in the moment anyway. She whined and motioned to his hand with her free hand. He looked at her like she was a mental patient. 

“What? What is it?” He got down by her and she grabbed his hand then turned it so that his palm was facing up towards her. Very deliberately she spelled out three letters on his palm. “Leila I don’t…I’m not getting it.” She huffed and growled softly, then repeated the action. It took four times before he realized what she was doing then he started to pay attention. 

“K-E-Y…yes we have to get a key but the fuck if I know how to get one or where it is.” He told her. She sighed and wrote on his hand again. This time more of a sentence. He watched her draw the letters and felt the shape of them as she traced them, she could see him trying to process it as she did it. Thank God he wasn’t an idiot and this was actually working. “Look behind head…” He turned around to look behind him quickly. She had meant her head but at least he’d gotten the general message there. She tapped his hand and then spelled out the word MINE. 

“Oh right, I guess that would make more sense.” He said and started to get up but she grabbed his hand urgently and tapped it again. 

DON’T TOUCH JUST LOOK. She wrote out. She did it twice to make sure he understood that. 

“Okay, okay I’ll just look.” He assured her and got up completely, it was around then that she noticed that he didn’t have any shoes on. His feet were bare. Otherwise he was completely dressed. This was going to play into into it somehow and she shuddered to think how. Mark had said no matter what they’d both be safe. She wondered why the fuck he’d call this safe but then it occurred to her that she would be one of the only people in the entire country (if not world) to understand how this trap worked and what to do to save herself. She honestly wished it was just her because involving Gordon in this really only entered in another issue of having to protect him. “Jesus Christ. There’s a…a pin there and a lock. How the fuck do I get this off of you? Does it hurt?” 

The truth was that the weight of the device was far more painful than how it was hooked into her mouth but she also could have very well just gone numb. Or Mark had done something to leave her numb. As much as there was something not right about this, it was still the best case scenario to be caught in a Jigsaw trap. At least for her. She snapped her fingers but it was about that time that a few lights came on in the room. She flinched but Gordon grabbed her head quickly, keeping her from accidentally pulling the pin. An old television in the corner of the room came on. With that fucking doll on it. 

“Hello Leila…your unethical conduct of fraternizing with a victim under your care and in your investigation has become worthy of self reflection. Across this room lies your salvation in the form of a key. As you are restrained, your partner is going to have to retrieve it for you, leaving him to question your worth and how much he will sacrifice to save you.” 

“Oh what the literal fuck is this bullshit?” Gordon demanded. It was about that time that a few more lights came on. It was revealed that beyond the metal bars, blocking off the rest of the room were shards of broken glass, twisted metal, and more than likely syringes strewn across the floor absolutely covering it. There was no way for her to actually get across there to get the key herself, which was obviously dangling from the ceiling. Gordon would have to get it. It really hurt her to think there was no damn way he would but she did have to consider it. Given the other traps that existed and she was well aware of, this was basically nothing, but it may not seem the same way to him. “FUCK!” The screen flickered and there was static which was loud enough to draw his attention back to the screen. Leila had no choice but to watch it given how her head was positioned. 

What came on the screen was CCTV footage of Mark’s rampage the night of the last game. The one at the police station where he’d killed quite a few people by roaming the grounds of the police station stabbing them in the necks one by one before ultimately taking out the officer guarding Jill with a gun. It cut from there. The rest of that footage had never been found. At least not by the FBI. If it had, she’d be in jail. The footage had also never been released to the general public. Nor had specific details of how Mark had done that, there had been fear someone might try to copycat it if they also knew how easy it was. 

“You told me he didn’t kill in cold blood…that everything had a motive! The fuck was the motive for any of that!” Gordon demanded. She couldn’t even glare at him. How did he expect her to explain the complexity of that situation with a metal bear trap wired into her jaw. She could hear him pacing behind her as the screen flickered again. The doll came back. 

“To raise the bars in order to access the key, the pin to the device hooked into your jaw must be pulled. At that point, your partner will have 90 seconds to get the key to unlock the trap and spare you your life. Let the games begin.” It was then that the screen cut to black. The TV shut off. The other lights remained on. Gordon was not happy and she could definitely hear it from how he was breathing. How he was moving behind her. 

“Fuck this, fuck it. Just don’t move, someone will find us.” Gordon insisted. He came back around to face her. “You’re an FBI agent and I’m a fucking celebrity you think people won’t look?” He had a point, but that all depended on where they were and how easy it would be to find them. Three days of this and they’d be dead without water. The FBI wasn’t that good, at least not with someone like Mark who definitely knew how to cover his tracks. With no discernible motive. With no trace that they had even been abducted except maybe her trashed apartment. It was too much of a gamble. She snapped her fingers at him. He got down by her and offered his hand again. 

THREE DAYS NO WATER DIE is what she wrote. She didn’t want to risk writing out complex or long sentences and have him lose track of what she was trying to spell to him. This was their only way to communicate and she had to make it count. IF YOU CAN’T I UNDERSTAND. 

“What? Don’t be so fucking morbid I am not going to let you die like this. You didn’t do anything, this is not your fault and it certainly is not mine. I won’t let you die.” He insisted and glanced back at the bars he took in a few deep breaths. “I don’t know why the fuck he did this to you, of all people, me maybe, not you. This doesn’t make sense.” 

I AGREE she wrote to him. He wasn’t wrong about that because she couldn’t figure it out either. 

“Fuck.” 

MAKE CHOICE she wrote and then closed her eyes, a few tears falling after. He looked at her, running his hands over his face and taking in a deep breath. She didn’t think he was deciding if he wanted to do it as much as trying to prepare himself to do it. 

“Wait until I am right there, right by the bars, then pull the pin.” He told her. “I can do this, Leila. I will do this. You aren’t going to die here.” She grabbed his hand and gave it a tight squeeze. He squeezed back, his eyes completely terrified, but somehow still determined. He walked towards the bars and once he got there he banged on them loudly so she would know. That’s when the TV came back on but this time it showed video footage of him and where he was standing so she could watch. 

“Pull the pin.” He said. She hesitated, “PULL THE FUCKIN PIN!” She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut then jerked her head so the pin was pulled. In an instant the bars shot up to the ceiling. Not only did that also give him a complete path to freedom via a door but it would allow him to get the key. It was why she hesitated because she knew now, that all he really had to do was move across that stupid minefield of glass and other horrible things and leave. If he got the key for her he’d have to walk across it and come back. There was an easy out for him and she wasn’t very sure he wouldn’t take it. Though she felt awful for doubting him she also knew the survival instincts of humans and how strong they could be. Except he didn’t hesitate at all. Not even for a moment. The very second his path was cleared to get the key he went to get it. From the angle she was at, she couldn’t see how far he actually had to walk but it was a good ten feet there and back. There was a lot of cursing but he never slowed down or stopped. If he was in pain he was doing a good job of not reacting to it. The ticking of the countdown timer was keeping time right in her ear. 

Her eyes stayed closed the entire time but she never heard a door open. She could only hear him, moving across the glass and metal before the sound happened a second time and she felt a hand on her head. More cursing and struggling until there was a click, a clang, and a thud as the padlock was thrown to the floor. He quickly removed the trap as well, seeing as how she only had one hand to move she’d have never been able to do it herself. She was kind of shocked by all of this, moving to get the key was one thing but to actually pull a metal contraption out of her jaw in such a fashion was another. That hurt and she screamed loudly. Blood poured from her mouth but only for a few moments before stopping. He moved around in front of her and pulled her into his arms. She wrapped her one free arm around him and held him tightly. 

“I’m sorry, I am so sorry…oh God…” 

“Shhh….” He whispered and kissed the top of her head. A few moments after that the trap clicked and with a loud clang it snapped itself open, drawing Gordon’s attention for a moment. “How do I…fuck…that chain around your wrist. We have to get you out of it. We have to get out of here, now.” She pulled back from him trying to slow her breathing. He was right about that but…where was the key. There was going to be an answer to this too. 

“The…key for….for my…for the trap. Try that in the…the lock.” She said, it hurt to talk as well it should for such an injury to her jaw. Still, she’d rather have that than be dead. Mark had recovered from a much worse version of this she’d recover as well. At least he had enough damn sense not to ruin Gordon’s mouth. He grabbed the padlock that still had the key in it and tried it on the lock that was keeping the chain in place. It worked and seconds later she was released and standing with him. Only she had shoes on and he still didn’t. She looked down at his feet, they weren’t in good condition but there hadn’t been major damage done. At least nothing that they needed to hurry to fix. She looked at the floor and the path to the door. “You…you’re going to have to do that again.” 

“I realize that.” He said and took in a deep breath. 

“Wait just…give me a moment.” She told him and hurried to the area. Since she had shoes on she was able to use her feet to clear a path at least as much as possible. She had it done within a minute only just then realizing how much he’d actually had to walk to retrieve the key, not to mention the fact that he had to jump quite a ways to reach where it had been hanging from. “Here, come on, there might still be small shards but…that’s the best I can do.” She reached for his hand. He nodded and headed towards her, walking normally but slowly and it was clear he was in quite a bit of pain. 

Once they got to the door she opened it, thanking whatever God was out there that it wasn’t locked and opened it, pushing through into a hallway. They started to walk out together, by the time that they found an actual exist he was leaning on her heavily but she wasn’t going to allow him to stay there even if it was probably a better idea to do that and come back with help. It terrified her to think of what was left in there for him, for the both of them, if they didn’t leave immediately. To her utter shock there was a car there. Right there. On the hood sat a box. She went to it as quickly as she could with Gordon leaning on her. Opening it up while he chose to lean on the car instead she found a set of keys and a note. 

Get out of here. Get help. Ditch the car. Lose the note. 

Gordon was absolutely not paying any attention to the fact there was a note, probably in too much pain to do so. She crumpled it and shoved it into her pocket before opening the car door. Whatever the hell this was, it was meant for them. For her specifically. If there were other people in that warehouse, he clearly hadn’t expected any of them to survive other than her, but it was questionable if he expected Gordon to make it out as well. She wasn’t exactly sure, either way Mark being who he was, he also knew she’d be the one to get that note or he wouldn’t have left it. 

“Come on, we need to get to an ER.” She told him and helped him into the car. He didn’t protest too much and seemed pretty out of it by that point she was far more aware and able to drive. There was definitely something off about this but there was no way to know what it was in the moment and she certainly wasn’t going to stand around and question it when Gordon needed help.

* * *

The injuries to his feet were minor, as much as they didn’t look it. He was given a tetanus shot as well and some of the wounds did need stitches but not very many. They were keeping him overnight for observation and pain management. She stayed with him as much as she could but he understood that she also needed to get checked out and then deal with the FBI, locating the warehouse, and the fallout that came with it. It was decided between them that he wanted to be left alone to rest and she fully offered to distract everyone as long as she could. The pain she was in was nauseating and she’d been given morphine but she was going to do this for him, he’d saved her life. It was worth it to her. Of course in this time she also was able to ditch the car. Whatever was going to happen to it, she didn’t know, but she did know where to put it. It was somewhere hidden but Mark would know to find if he intended to take it, or whatever.

Within that time she was able to fabricate a story about how they got back which was completely plausible and Gordon had readily agreed to only because he honestly did not remember what had happened so it was an easy enough matter to cover up. She felt bad doing it but she also didn’t want her involvement with this questioned. It may seem like it would be obvious to anyone that she was a victim here but, the general public would be very surprised at the level of scrutiny she’d be put under for telling the truth. Not to mention that if this was part of a bigger plan and it probably was, she wanted to see it play out as she had a nagging feeling it may benefit her to do that. There was no reason for Mark to risk her life unless it would end up making sense in the long run. Just because she couldn’t see the bigger picture didn’t mean it didn’t exist. 

At the end of a long night, as dawn was breaking, she returned to Gordon’s room. He was asleep. She yanked a chair over to his bedside and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She felt a weak squeeze back but there weren’t any words. She wasn’t sure that there needed to be. She didn’t have the energy for words anyway. Instead she just laid her head on the bed next to him and very quickly managed to fall asleep that way. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the last chapter or anything (if it wasn't obvious) I just had to post 2 at once as I thought that if I posted chapter 11 alone without any explanation everyone would hate me. Also deaths of other celebrity chefs are mentioned in passing to fit with the plot tried to choose likely ones to fit the plot don't get too upset it's just a story.

It was a few days later and Leila had been waiting on Gordon hand and foot. Not even because he asked or slightly implied that she should. His feet were ruined and that was the price he’d chosen to pay to save her life. She was barely letting him do anything, even though he admitted that it looked worse than it actual felt. She didn’t doubt him and she didn’t think he was hiding any pain because she certainly saw him walk just fine. He didn’t want to wear shoes but that was understandable while he healed. Still, she didn’t think he should be getting up after all of that. Not until he was back to his old self. Feet completely healed and his face. Everything back to normal. She’d been running herself completely ragged too. Trying to keep the press away, keeping the FBI away as much as possible. She took his statement herself and filed it for him. She kept him away from news reports and phone calls, she stayed away from them as well. Not only out of easing their stress but in fear of what someone might tell her. Or might want to tell him. What they may see being reported. She’d secluded them as much as humanly possible to make sure things were as stress free as possible. 

At the end of the third day she basically fell asleep on the couch without meaning to. Having not slept in nearly 72 hours had sent her into a state of micro-napping until finally she was just out. She only woke up to the smell of food. Very good food. She sat up and looked around, then rubbed her eyes. They had been getting things delivered almost daily but she had been cooking. He never once complained, well not verbally. She could see he wanted to say something. Not even that he thought it was bad, probably like her bacon and eggs the first day, it wasn’t as perfect as it could be. Nit picky stuff. The point was he still at it easily and didn’t seem overly upset with the preparation. At least she hoped she was reading into that right. Maybe he hated it but he liked her enough to choke it down. She looked towards the kitchen and saw him plating some food. How long had she even slept? 

“Gordon, you made dinner?” She asked softly and made herself get up. 

“No no, don’t get up.” He urge her and quickly finished the plate he was preparing and brought it to her. He looked overly excited but a bit nervous. She yawned and reached out to take the plate. Then she realized what it was. 

“Unagi don?” She asked, “Look no offense but didn’t you tell me you weren’t going to make this because you didn’t think that you knew how?” 

“You know there are ways to research that type of thing, but…it may not be good. It’s not exactly my specialty. Still, I was up for a bit of a challenge and you’ve had this before. You said it was your favorite, yeah?” 

“You’re not wrong about that, and it looks amazing, I don’t doubt your version of it could be bad. No matter what you thought you did wrong.” She laughed and picked up the chopsticks he had brought her with it. She picked up a bite sized portion with the rice and took a bite. “Oh wow…how the fuck did you research this again? Fly to Japan when I wasn’t looking?” 

“Oh fuck off it’s not that good.” He laughed a bit nervously looking away with his red bashful face like he tended to do when he was a bit embarrassed. She laughed softly and shook her head. 

“It is that good.” She said, “I can’t even make it this good and I went to culinary school in Japan.” She didn’t doubt there were internet videos and cook books and whatever else he could have looked into and considering she bad basically made him stay in bed for nearly two weeks now because she was taking care of him, she hadn’t had half an idea what he’d been doing the whole time. He also had never complained of being bored even if he had complained about not being able to walk around as much as he wanted to. This was what he’d been occupying himself with. 

“You’re sure then?” 

“Yes I’m sure. You should be opening some sort of sushi restaurant next week then?” 

“Never,” He laughed, “I don’t think anyone would eat at any sushi place named after me, ever. Besides, I still can’t make actual sushi had enough time to attempt that while you slept. Didn’t turn out well.” He said and walked back to the kitchen to get the other plate. 

“By which you mean, it wasn’t up to your own insane standards so you hated it?” 

“Possibly but that’s not what matters.” He came back over to the couch and sat next to her, starting to eat. “You weren’t lying, this is good.” 

“Not even going to criticize yourself?” She smiled.

“Well I think there are probably a few things I could have done differently but for a first try it’s not bad. Now, is someone going to let me watch the news since I made her favorite dinner?” 

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes, “Just…whatever you see, don’t flip out. It’s over, we can’t change it.” 

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“Not at all, I just know how Mark is and it’s not going to be good. Especially if they are still talking about it.” She sighed and reached for the remote to turn the TV on. She found a new channel but for the moment they weren’t talking about the killings, or anything slightly related to Gordon. She sighed with relief and started to eat again. 

“Leila,” He said, “Why are you…you were taking care of me like that because you thought I wouldn’t save you.” 

“What?”

“You think you owe me.” He said. 

“Gordon,” 

“I don’t hear you denying it.” 

“Look, the night before that in the hot tub, well a few nights before, whatever…I started to say I…I loved you and you…”

“Maybe it wasn’t just the right moment for me to say it, to feel it.” He said and poked at his food for a moment, “But a man who doesn’t love you back, would have gone right for that door. Leila, I didn’t feel obligated for any reason other than it was the right thing to do and I know how I feel. So fuck me right, I can’t say it but I can show it to you is that not real enough?” 

“It’s not that it’s just…well you saw how my first love ended. Kind of makes it hard to trust that anything is real. With anyone. It’s not personal just to you.” She explained. 

“You think I’m not coming from a similar place? Tera’s not a killer but she damn well-“

He didn’t get to finish that because the news cut him off with a story about them. To which they both completely went silent and Leila turned up the volume a bit more. 

“Following up on the Jigsaw anniversary copy cat killings, Tera Ramsay has been arrested and is being held without bail. Her husband-“

“FORMER!” Gordon said loudly, Leila looked at him and rolled her eyes trying to hold back a snort of laughter. 

“-Could not be reached for comment. With the deaths of a few celebrity chefs the motive seems clear. Get rid of the competition and cash in on the death of a husband that had accused her of abuse…” 

“What?” Gordon said, “Are they saying everything I think they are saying or am I incredibly drunk?” 

“No I heard that too.” Leila muttered. Her mouth was going dry. She set her plate down shakily on the coffee table and then got up to head for the kitchen so she could get a drink. She pulled a beer from the fridge and opened it quickly. That’s when she remembered what Mark had said to her that night. When she told him about Tera finding his warehouse and him saying he let her find it. How he’d been annoyed that she touched everything which really shouldn’t have mattered anyway. He was setting her up. He wanted that bitch in there to mess with his stuff and leave forensic evidence. He wanted proof she set up everything. But who would even buy that? She was a walking bimbo with the IQ of a potato. It had worked though, and seemingly very well. 

“In other news, presumed apprentice to John Kramer, Mark Hoffman has posthumously been pardoned of all alleged crimes. We spoke with Police Chief Anderson and a spokesman for the FBI who have now begun to call into question if he was behind the killings at all. With new information and substantial lack of evidence, there is little reason to continue to charge Mark Hoffman with-“

Leila didn’t even hear the rest of that because she ended up crashing to the floor in a dead faint.

* * *

When she woke up she was in the hospital and her head was pounding like crazy. She could barely remember what happened, at least at first. It seemed like a dream. The beep of the machines was driving her nuts and making her feel nauseated so were all the smells. She felt a hand on her arm and opened her eyes just a bit, turning her head to look at who it was but as expected it was Gordon.

“Next time you’re about to do that, tell me.” He whispered. 

“How bad….is it?” She muttered. 

“Minor skull fracture, you really hit that floor hard.” He said. 

“Fuck…” She muttered, “God this is…the worst thing…”

“Just try to relax.” He said. One of the nurses came in a moment later and started to hook things up to her IV. Leila whined not liking all of this noise or movement it was just making her nauseous and irritated and she wanted it all to stop. 

“Here, this is for pain. Press it-“

“I know I’m a doctor just…no more noise.” She whispered. The nurse nodded and gave her the button which she immediately pressed. “It’s a very minor skull fracture, painful but low risk of anything permanent neurologically and no brain swelling either.” 

“La-tee-freaking-dah.” Leila growled. 

“Sorry…” Gordon apologized for her. 

“No need to be sorry I can kind of understand.” The nurse said and smiled at him before leaving. 

“Leila…”

“If you tell me to be nice to people right now I’ll jam something up your ass the moment I’m able and it’ll be big.” She whispered. He laughed softly and put a hand on her arm. 

“I would have said fucking…” He said. This caused her to smile but slowly the dose of narcotics worked into her system and lulled her into a nice rest. 

* * *

The next time she woke up things felt quite a bit better. She didn’t know how long she’d been out but the pain had gone from completely intolerable to migraine territory which was far easier to deal with than whatever was happening before. Gordon was asleep in the chair next to her and snoring because in that position his head was completely back with his mouth wide open. She pressed the button to release more of the pain meds hoping to fight off the pain before it got too intense from other sound or movement. She took a deep breath as the burn hit her and then let it out slowly. Once the pain subsided a bit more she reached out and hit Gordon in the leg. He made a weird yelping sound and sat up looking around before his eyes landed on her.

“Don’t do that.” He said. 

“Sorry….I just…when I fainted did all that stuff actually happen or did I faint before that and just dream it?” She asked him. “What time is it?” He looked around for a moment until his eyes settled on the clock over the door. 

“Two in the morning and it wasn’t all a dream, also, we need to stop ending up in the hospital they are getting very suspicious of us.” He said but she could tell he meant the last part mostly as a joke. 

“Who…died?” She asked, “In the other traps I mean. Anyone you knew?” 

“Well yes and in life I did not have very good things to say about them. They were competition though.” He said, “I know Tera didn’t do any of this.”

“Yeah, me too.” 

“But she’s going away for doing it.” 

“Who died?” She asked again. 

“Are you even going to know them?” He asked and took her hand. She smiled. He was right about that but she still wanted to hear the names. He sighed, “Two other celebrity chefs one was Jamie Oliver the other Anthony Bourdain. May not have liked them but I wouldn’t have asked for this.” 

“No one would have believed it if they were just random people. Besides they didn’t just die you know, they were each given a chance. Like we were.” 

“I think we had a massive advantage and by we I mean you. Fuckin hell if I had been alone in there I’d have shit my pants and died.” 

“No you wouldn’t have.” She giggled, “You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for, smarter too.” 

“Not smart enough to leave that cow before all of this happened.” 

“It was smart to leave at all, Gordon.” She said, “Strong too. I know it doesn’t feel that way but it is and it was. I promise.” He nodded and brought a hand to his face rubbing at his eye a bit then he looked at her. 

“Thank you, for all of this.” He said. 

“Thank you.” She said reaching for his hand, he took hers and gave it a squeeze. She didn’t know what exactly would happen once they got out of there and everything was pushed into a trial but she was sure at that point that Gordon loved her and she loved him. Ultimately that was the only thing that mattered, right? 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, I know, but I wanted to put something up to let everyone know I am back. That is all.

A few months had passed, it had taken that long for her skull fracture to heal, as minor as it had been. She decided to take a sabbatical from work for longer than that though. Six months. Though she was still helping with Gordon’s case she definitely wasn’t doing any sort of hard work. It was the only thing she kept working on and everything was set to go to trial in a few days. People really underestimated how long it took to begin a trial especially when it was for something as big as this.

Even though they weren’t declaring the other Jigsaw murders a product of Tera’s psychotic behavior, they did, 100% believe that she committed the murders of the chefs to get rid of the competition. Mark had set that up perfectly, and she wasn’t surprised. He’d gotten away with the Seth Baxter murder for as long as he needed to, and then following that, he’d gotten away with several others. He very nearly successfully framed Agent Straham but had screwed up by using a dead hand instead of a live one, which she really wanted to yell at him for but it was pointless now. She hadn’t know much of anything about the Jigsaw murders, before or after Mark was doing them. She wasn’t in violent crimes and saw enough twisted shit that she didn’t bother to go looking through other crap, not that they were going to let her, either. She didn’t want to know all the details, she knew enough. 

Other evidence magically delivered to the FBI had called into question how much Mark had even actually done. They were retracting the statements that he was the apprentice and eyes were now focused on Laurence Gordon the man who had caused Mark’s disappearance in the first place. He was having one hell of a hard time getting out of it as well. She hadn’t seen Mark since he’d put her and Gordon in that trap and she could understand why, because he probably assumed she was pissed off at him. He wasn’t wrong. Not entirely at least. She wouldn’t have minded seeing him one last time to say goodbye but she also didn’t understand what the fuck she was doing in a trap. The only possible thing she could think of was that he knew she’d know how to get out of there above the others and this would definitely make Gordon survive. 

That morning when she woke up, almost as soon as she was on her feet she felt sick. She ran into the bathroom very quickly and puked. This was enough to disturb Goron and she heard him say something, maybe. It was muffled and the bathroom was quite a ways from the bedroom. She groaned and wiped her mouth, sitting back and flushing the toilet, trying to catch her breath. When the hell did she get a stomach virus? She was damn sure it wasn’t food poisoning, Gordon cooked everything for them all the time now, well, mostly. He did give her lessons but he pretty much took over otherwise and had been going back into work on occasion. 

“You okay?” He asked, this time from the doorway. She looked up at him and put her hand to her forehead. No fever. She stood up and her eyes went wide. This was morning sickness. She’d assumed her period was missed because of stress but in the moment she realized something pretty awful. When she’d fractured her skull they’d given her antibiotics, and all sorts of other medication that would have counteracted her birth control. Normally, she’d have been aware of this, but they’d also had her on narcotics for pain and she was taking them, a lot. This led to a lapse in judgement with sex. 

“Uh…” She said slowly, “Yeah….” She walked over to the sink and grabbed her toothbrush. 

“No offense but none of that sounded like you are remotely okay.” He said coming towards her. She moved away from him quickly and started to brush her teeth. 

“No, really I’m fine.” She said trying to sound a lot more cheerful as she went over the days in her head of how far along she probably was. Maybe about three months now. Fuck. She looked at him, for a long moment trying to figure out how to say this because she didn’t want to. Not because she didn’t love him, not because she didn’t want to be with him, but because she was pretty damn sure he wasn’t going to like this. 

“You’re pregnant.” He said. 

“Gordon, I don’t know that you know it could just be something I ate.” She said and went back to brushing her teeth. 

“No, no that’s what this is. I know that look. That is the most ‘oh shit he knocked me up’ look I’ve ever fucking seen.” He told her. She still couldn’t tell by his tone if he was happy about this or not so she didn’t answer she just finished brushing her teeth while he just stood there saying nothing. After she rinsed her mouth out she turned towards him and he pulled her into a hug. 

“Gordon, I…it was an accident and I should have known better but I mean-“ 

“It’s okay.” He said softly, and stroked her hair. “I’m not upset not thrilled either but I’m not going to leave whatever you decide okay?” 

“I appreciate that but what do you want?” She asked wrapping her arms around him slowly. 

“I want whatever will make you happy.” He said. 

“I’m nearly positive I don’t want a child.” She whispered then winced. It sounded awful but she’d never wanted a kid, ever. Not even with Mark. Turns out that was a good thing because if she’d had a kid with him that kid would be nearly ten years old right now and boy would she not want to have to explain what happened to daddy or who he was. 

“Alright,” He said. “I support that as well, you know.” 

“Really? Because I mean…” She moved back from him and started to walk out of there. “Look, there’s no right way to put this but didn’t Tera guilt you into staying because of her most likely fake miscarriages and whatever? Or because she said you were going to have a kid or-“ 

“That’s completely different.” He said, “I know you aren’t like that, at all. If this was an accident, and I can’t deny it was since neither of us were trying, then I know you aren’t going to guilt me over anything. I suppose it would be nice to have a child with such a loving, caring, strong, and beautiful woman like you but ultimately…are either of us ready? It’s a big step. We aren’t even close to being married…” 

“I need to think about it.” She said, “I want you to think about it too because whatever we decide, I think it should make both of us happy, not just one of us.” 

“Okay. I can agree with you on that.” He said, “Let me make you some breakfast.” She nodded and headed downstairs with him still feeling kind of sick. For someone who usually had all the answers for even the most bizarre problems, this one had her completely stumped.

* * *

When the trial did start, Leila and Gordon were in attendance every damn day. She also kept putting off this decision about the baby almost every chance she got. She still didn’t know what she wanted and she found the trial a good excuse to completely change the subject because it was definitely upsetting Gordon so he immediately forgot they were talking about her being pregnant and went back to Tera. She knew she was doing it and she knew it was wrong because she also still wasn’t sure she wanted the baby. It wasn’t very long until she started to show, slightly. Especially when she was naked. She was wearing more baggy clothes to try to hide it otherwise. 

At nearly the five-month mark it was obvious. She was running out of time to have an abortion even if she wanted to. Adoption was also an option but she wasn’t sure she wanted that for her child either. Rika had suggested having the kid then hiring people to care for it until it was old enough to take care of itself. Leila was aware it was mostly a joke but it still annoyed her. Rika wasn’t very helpful and Rika asked her if she expected actual help because she didn’t know what the hell to do either. Her only other comment was that this kid was going to be the tallest, most gorgeous, gifted chef in the fucking universe when it grew up, if she decided to have it. 

It wasn’t long before she was called in to testify about her experience with the trap she had been put in and everything else to do with what Tera was charged with. She was not only testifying as an FBI agent but as a witness so it was going to be a very long round of questioning. In the middle of it she very stupidly, and sheepishly had to beg for some sort of recess for a bathroom break. There was some argument about this so she just blurted out very loudly that she was pregnant and her bladder was going to explode. A short recess was called and she got up. 

“YOU’RE WHAT?!” Tera yelled at her. Fuck. She really hadn’t thought that one through. 

“Oh calm down you stupid twat.” Gordon said from behind her where he was sitting. 

“You knocked ‘er up?” Tera asked, “Couldn’t fucking get that right with me, yeah?” 

“Maybe because my sperm are smart enough to know not to reproduce with you.” Gordon snapped back. 

“ORDER!” The judge yelled, “Control your client Mr. Steinman or we’ll have her removed and held in confinement until court is back in session.” 

“Oh shove it up your arse I’m fine.” Tera growled and folded her arms over her chest as Leila got up and headed towards the exit so she could actually get to the bathroom before it was too late. When she came back, recess was still going on but there would be only a few minutes left. She sighed and sat down next to Gordon for the moment. 

“You know, it really looks like you want to keep this baby.” He whispered. 

“And?” She snapped, “Sorry I…I tend to do this thing where when I don’t know the answer to a problem I just do nothing and hope it goes away.” 

“You can’t do that with a baby.” He said and put his hand on her stomach. She knew he had a point but she was still far too frozen on this entire thing to make any sort of choice despite how late it was becoming to make a choice. The judge came back into the room and took his seat on the bench. She leaned in and kissed Gordon’s cheek. 

“The defense called Agent Leila Dawson, again.” The judge called. Leila stood up and started to head back towards the witness stand. As she passed the table, Tera made a move. She knocked a few of the drinking glasses to the floor as she lunged to get her foot in front of Leila. Everything happened so incredibly fast that there was no time to stop it and she was tripped, falling face first onto the floor. None of this would have actually been so bad had she not fallen on the glasses that were knocked off the table, seemingly on purpose. At first, she didn’t notice much of anything, at least in way of herself. Tera was pulled back, there was a bunch of shouting and she was removed from the courtroom screaming incoherently as she thrashed, trying to get away. 

In a daze, Leila sat up and took in a deep breath, something wasn’t right here. She put her hand on her stomach, there was blood, quite a lot of it, not to mention glass and it was definitely embedded in her skin. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion and sounds were coming from underwater. It hadn’t been that bad of a fall, right? She felt a hand on her arm and she snapped out of it, realizing it was Gordon. 

“Fuck,” He said, “Call an ambulance! SOMEONE! Leila, are you okay?” 

“I’m going to bleed out.” She muttered, “Something’s wrong.” 

“You won’t bleed out, you’ll be fine.” He sat down next to her and pulled her into his arms. Well, this certainly solved the baby problem but why did she feel so awful about it? Maybe because it hadn’t been her choice. Maybe because it had been so violent and wrong. She didn’t know. She looked up at him. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. 

“Nothing to be sorry about we’ll get you taken care of and that will be that.” He said, “At least we know she’ll definitely be going away for good, yeah? She just attacked a pregnant woman in front of a shit ton of people.” 

“That’s…true.” She muttered. There was so much blood though, she could smell it. Why was there so much fucking blood? It hadn’t been that bad of a fall, had it? So much pain…things were getting dark. “Don’t let me die.” She whispered. 

“You aren’t going to die.” He assured her, “I promise you that.” She nodded, hoping that his promise was right. It was something she couldn’t have possibly known because of the shock but the pain wasn’t from the glass, or the fall, it was because she’d literally been stabbed in the back. Tera had stabbed her in the back. Right before she blacked out completely she definitely heard someone yell the words, _‘where the fuck did she get that knife?’_


End file.
